Ode to Fate
by rookieD
Summary: AU From 2.9/2.10. Concept dreamed up by RB Anon. 'The Best Laid Plans' are one thing, but it takes a dangerous twist of fate to get Sam and Andy to realize they are actually on the same page.
1. Chapter 1

_Inspired by a concept belonging to RB_Anon, this story was going to be a two or three-shot, but then oops - turned into seven chapters long (I will post one per day over the following week). _

_It's rated M for scenes of a sexual nature, and my usual use of language. It also contains some brutish behavior, but it's really not my style to go overboard with the details on that. (I also trust that you can suspend disbelief when it comes to what may be possible in terms of fiddling/hacking into items of a technical nature – because I'm not an expert, but I assume anything is possible!)_

_As mentioned in the description, the storyline is AU from just before the end of 2.10. Sam doesn't go on the Brennan op, but he does do a job for Boyd…I trust it will all make sense when you read. It also references my imaginings of other events that happened after 2.7 (aka 'Trust You Any Way')._

_I hope you enjoy the ride. If you do, go thank RB_Anon on Twitter …and drop me a line too if you so wish :)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Andy splashes her face with some of the cool water that's been running from the bathroom faucet a little longer than she would normally let. She takes a long look in the mirror after a few goes at bringing her body temperature down. She bites at a corner of her bottom lip as she notices her appearance remains…flushed…and tries again with the water, not wanting to go to bed feeling….bothered…like this. It's been over two hours since he dropped her home for goodness sake –

* * *

_(One drink at The Penny after shift, just the two of them because no one else was around; Sam's leather-clad elbow touching hers every so often as they sat side-by-side at the bar. Andy didn't think it was deliberate on his behalf, what with the way their stools were perched together so close before they even sat down._

_It was good to reflect on the day with him, despite any lingering tension over the almost-but-not-quite-kiss they shared under the lights of the fire truck (of all things). It gave her the opportunity to offload about how the death of Leslie changed her mind about her incessant need for planning every single thing in her life, and drop some subtle hints to him:_

_"You see an opportunity, you take it…" she told her drink quietly, hoping Sam would recall his words earlier that day. On his response of a mirthless laugh, she continued: "I think I could learn a thing or two." _

_When she looked up, Sam was shaking his head gently. His eyes caught the ambers of the bar-lights above them, making them warmer than ever before. "If only I __**was**__ the man of action that I actually profess to be."_

_Andy quirked an eyebrow in question, supposing that might be enough for him to continue – tell her…or show her…just what type of opportunity he was yet to take up._

_Instead, they just sat staring at one another for a long and quiet sixty seconds or so; Sam with his mouth part the way open and only ever almost saying the words._

_For most of those seconds Andy was convinced he was going to lean in and kiss her, much as she thought the same by the fire-truck. She hoped the only thing stopping him back then was the uniform, but maybe it wasn't, as it turned out._

_He glanced down at his watch eventually, "I…ah…I got some place I need to be. You…ah…you want a ride home?"_

_Despite her best efforts, Andy couldn't hide the frown that crossed her face at the time. She looked sideways at the corner of the bar and no one in particular, tried not to think of who Sam might be going to see. Tried not to think of the fact she might have read him all wrong, that maybe she had left her run too late._

_"I said no to Boyd's UC," he told Andy on the way to hers, this hushed voice after a pause between her telling him that she might take up with the Mounted Police._

_Her face whipped around to the direction of Sam's quick-smart, the relief a wave through her body when her brain finally caught up._

_"Just…um…I __**am**__ doin' a job for him though. That's where I'm headin' tonight." Sam looked into her eyes as he was telling her, a tiny smile at one corner of his mouth as some sort of reassurance that –_

_Well, Andy's still trying to figure that one out._

_She gave him a smile for his efforts to placate her insecurities though, promptly thinking of a thousand questions about this other op of Boyd's. (Mostly what was in her head: how dangerous it was, and of what it might mean for Andy becoming more…significant…in Sam's life)._

_"Don't ask me about it, Andy." Sam pleaded with her quietly. "Just…you know how these things are…okay?"_

_She blinked and tried to smile back at him, wishing to God that Donovan Boyd didn't exist._

_"I'll...ah…see you at some point tomorrow maybe, okay?"_

_Andy did frown at that one, completely unsure of what Sam was trying to tell her about where he would be. "What…"_

_"Change of shifts…I…um…'cause of the night gig, I'll be starting a little later in the day." _

_Despite the fact Sam was using that gentle tone he gets with her, Andy couldn't help but feel disappointed at the situation. Not only was he not out-and-out kissing her, but he was no longer going to be her riding partner now._

_"It's…um…it's a month or two. Tops." Obviously Sam was reading something off her forlorn expression, probably that sulky two-year old thing she gets going on when she loses her favorite toy._

_Andy nodded after a few beats. "Please tell me it's nothing extraordinarily dangerous?" Her voice was shaky and rattled, despite her best efforts to not waiver at thoughts of what he might be up against every night._

_"Just surveillance, McNally…you'll still have the privilege of seeing my awesomeness day after day." The grin he'd grown by that point was wicked and teasing, perhaps a sign of his growing confidence that Andy was caring about him a little more than he thought she might._

_She did her best job of rolling her eyes and smirked at him. "Least this time you'll be in a van, right? Probably you can't let yourself get tackled by any girls in there."_

_Sam's tongue popped into the side of his cheek, evidently trying to tamp down the appearance of some dimples. He gave her some heat with his eyes. "Might not be so bad if I did."_

_The blush spread across Andy like a wildfire, she felt it run right from her core and was unable to stop it until it hit her extremes. 'Pfft' she snorted at him when it was over, at a loss for what else she might say._

_"You, ah. You want me to walk you up?" Sam asked after another few beats, pointing an index finger to her new apartment, which had somehow appeared to the left of the passenger window during the cheeky transaction; the truck having been at a stop for Andy had no idea how long._

**_Yes_**_ was the answer she'd wanted to give, but she knew it was unfair. Sam obviously had to keep moving, and get to stupid Boyd-faces stupid job. Andy shook her head slowly, not wanting to leave Sam at all. "I'll be okay."_

_"You will," he agreed, winking back at her, the damn dimples popping back out.)_

* * *

She blows into the wet liquid that is sluicing about between her hands and her face, tries to quell the wave that ripples through her body when she recognizes it as desire - a response to having just imagined Sam's mouth on her neck.

She gives into it when she ascertains her pulse-rate won't rest unless she takes action, _does_ something to release the tension that's been coiling tight inside of her for the past few hours (days, weeks.)

She slips her hand down her yoga pants and into the elastic of her underwear without thinking further, slides her fingers until they reach where she is sticky and wet. Her icy, cool fingers make her shudder in response, but as she closes her eyes and thinks of the way Sam might say goodnight to her on other evenings, she sinks one finger _inside_.

Her sigh swooshes about between her ears before it muffles its way out her lips. She licks at their dryness as she imagines Sam kissing her, his tongue and teeth inching a trail into her mouth the way they did the night of the blackout –

The orgasm is languid, one slow ripple around her abdomen as she crooks her finger forward and teases her thumb on her clit. "Shit," she sobs as she opens her mouth wide for some air, still not feeling completely relieved.

She pulls her hand out of her pants and stares it down angrily, scrubbing it under the water as punishment until it's all the way clean. She peers back into the mirror as she flicks her hands dry, not bothering with a towel and finally turning the tap off. "What are you looking at?" she demands into her reflection crossly, before she turns and snaps the light switch for darkness and stomps away from the room.

* * *

By the time Andy gets to her bedroom, she's resolved; she's just going to lay it on the line. She's going to _tell_ Sam she wants…tell him she wants to eat good candy now and drink the Champagne.

As she picks up her mobile, she scowls at it – realizing that right this minute he'd be on the job. She twists her mouth in consideration, and figures she'll talk to him in person tomorrow. Only maybe she'll do something that can set all of that up:

She types out a quick message as she paces her room, a bundle of nerves in her stomach that are making it knot:

_Run tomorrow a.m.? And Coffee after that?_

(They've run together before, a few times actually since that night they patched things up about the Nixon fiasco…the morning Andy woke up sprawled on top of Sam.

That was the beginning of her endless days of letting herself be distracted with thoughts of what might come next…)

Her phone rings about 15 seconds later, the screen telling her that it's him. She feels like the worlds' most awkward teenager, and chomps a few fingernails before she plucks up enough courage to green light the call. "Hey…sorry I…"

"S'okay, McNally. I'm watchin' nothing of interest tonight." His voice flips Andy's stomach, this soft edge to it that almost makes him sound nervous.

Andy's mouth twitches, her ears humming for more. "Oh-kay, yeah…just I know you'll be working late and all, so maybe you won't want to do an early morning thing, I just…"

"Yeah," Sam sighs, a tinge of what Andy thinks is regret in his voice. "My body probably won't be ready by 5am…"

"S'okay. Yeah, um. Totally. I'm an idiot…" Andy stutters and slaps a hand to her forehead.

"You're not an idiot, Andy," he responds no-nonsense, his words getting swallowed at the end by a clearing of his throat. "I…um…I like that you want to hang out with me, okay?"

Andy blushes because she can't help it, feeling well and truly sprung. Still, Sam's voice is lovely and gentle and not the teasing that she expected he might use when he says stuff like that. "I wanted to talk to you about something," she blurts out eventually, looking around her bedroom as though all sorts of skeletons might have just fallen out of her closet.

"Okay." Sam's reply is immediate, and again very soft. Andy figures he senses it's something she doesn't want to discuss over the phone. "Ah…if you're happy to wait until I'm off shift tomorrow. Ah. Maybe we could get a bite to eat before I'm back on Boyd-duties again?"

Andy's mouth curls into a smile automatically, something finally, finally loosening up in her chest. She contains it enough to respond so he can't actually hear the way it's taken over her face. "Yeah. Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

"Okey doke," Sam says, perhaps his automatic reaction to the curiosity he's got going on about what Andy wants to talk about. "Um, I'll call you at 7…see where you are?" And then, like maybe he gets another thought. "Or we can figure it out if we crossover on shift?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Andy smiles happily, tapping the toes of one bare foot against the floorboards. "Okay."

Both finish the conversation with a series of a few more _okay_'s each, neither apparently wanting to hang up first. "I better get back to it," Sam says after a while longer. "Catch Boyd some crims."

Andy grins and flops back on the bed. "Good luck with that, Swarek."

It's the way he says: "Sweet dreams McNally," that has her grinning harder still.

Andy plants a pillow over her face as she finally hangs up on his call.

* * *

Sam shouldn't have taken this fucking job. He's more than halfway convinced that Boyd's pulling his chain; punishment for Sam saying no to the deep cover gig he dangled in front of him like a damn carrot for more than a week.

He looks down at the blue screen of his phone again and thinks about McNally. Thinks of her lying in her bed, cotton sheets curled around that tanned, tone body. (Thinks of unraveling them and feels himself start to go hard).

He tosses the phone to the floor of the van with a clutter and blows out a frustrated breath. He could be watching these guys for months for all he knows, weeks on end of pulling double shifts - daytimes in 15 and nights of waiting for Boyd's big break. He decides to talk to Don about that later, clarify that this is two months max for Sam.

He bites his bottom lip hard and bends to pluck the phone off the floor. He considers calling McNally again; telling her screw his need for some sleep in the morning - he'll run with her or do whatever the hell she wants.

He conjures up images of buying pancakes and coffee for her like he did once last week; her back from that ridiculous pony-club camp and wanting to tell him how good she got at mounting a horse.

(She told him about fucking horse-boy too, how she got asked on a date. Sam wasn't entirely sure if she was a) trying to make him jealous, b) drop a hint, or c) just sharing the news like she would with Nash or any other BFF's.

Sam thinks it could've been a combo of the three actually, the way both of them are skirting the issue of what they are to one another...or more's the point: what they _want_ to be.

Sam's not sure either, actually. All he knows is that he's wanted _McNally_ too much for too long of a time. He's trying to be real careful with her; keep giving her that time and space he's such an expert at, continue to wait until she's all the way done with the betrayal Callaghan pummeled her with and then...maybe...take a chance. (Assuming of course, he can sort his own fucking head to that point).

On that note, he doesn't call her for a second time, despite wanting to tell her in person: _change of plans_. Instead, he tries to get his head back in the game. The quicker he can get enough on these dead-beats to get Boyd off his back, the quicker he can spend a little extra time with McNally and at least figure out exactly where that pretty head of _hers_ is at.

Sam plants the phone firm in his front pocket and picks up the binoculars for the umpteenth time tonight. He listens closely to the crackle of a wire that's telling him squat, and peers through the small space that allows for viewing from the back of the van.

He can see two of the loons Brennan employs for his warehouse, beefy meatheads they are - the pair of them. So is the third. They sit in the ratty kitchen playing poker at the small, ratty piece of furniture Sam assumes is a table of sorts. They're a pack of thugs, for sure. Dangerous meatheads that do some of the dirty work for Brennan – rough up people and take them to the kingpin before he gets the pleasure of torturing them to death.

He rolls his eyes and silently curses Boyd as he watches their mouths move in silence - a dead wire is the last thing he needs in terms of moving this job to his finish line.

'_Christ,_' Sam curses with a scowl on his face as he dips his fingers into his jeans and reaches for his mobile again. He presses his thumb hard on the 4th speed-dial and waits.

"Yup." Don's been asleep for sure, the prick. "What's up Sammy?" He provides further evidence to that fact with a yawn that Sam can almost see the detective trying to stifle through the phone.

"Don't Sammy me, ass-wipe." And okay, it's possible Sam's itch for McNally is not helping prevent a sour mood. "You even bother to check your equipment in the last 96 hours?"

Don yawns again, and then clucks his tongue a few times. "Course I have Swarek. It's a bunch of junk, but it's been workin'. Not my problem the techs have royally screwed with their budget this year."

Sam rolls his eyes and wonders who else Boyd pins the blame on for other shit he can't sort himself.

"Oh yeah, that right?" Sam asks casual all of a sudden, like he's just enquired after that little problem Don's got with his groin. "Well, I won't be doing another shift for you 'til I can hear these scumbags again."

"Sammy, c'mon," Boyd interjects immediately. "I'll have it sorted first thing in the morning." The detective clears his throat then and takes on a tone that suggests he's doing Sam a solid: "Take the rest of the night off buddy. Go get yourself laid."

On _that_ Sam blushes like McNally when he's got her flustered. It's not something that would normally get to him. _Normally_, he'd be smug and whip-smart with a retort. But on this one, he swallows and pauses a few seconds too long.

'_Ha!_' Sam can hear Boyd smirking at the receiver. "That what the aggro's about? You missin' that rookie of yours keepin' y'warm these cool nights?"

"Fuck off," Sam replies without thinking, and as casually as he can.

But he's not casual.

He's not casual at all - especially with Boyd talking about McNally in that sleazy tone. He's stuck in a tight one though, can't swipe back at Don or put him in his place because if he even thinks Sam and McNally are together, sure as anything Boyd will continue to shit-stir Sam, and make McNally's policing life hell.

"I...ah...heard her and Callaghan are doneski. You...ah...you have somethin' to do with that, Sammy?" Boyd's teasing and Sam knows it. Doesn't stop him feeling way more than mad.

Sam schools his features...and his voice, done with Boyd entertaining himself at the expense of Andy. "What Officer McNally...or I...do in our personal time is no business of yours. This conversation's over Boyd, and as of 60 seconds from now, I'm off the clock."

Sam ends the call, hanging up on Boyd without saying any other goodbyes. He expects Don will call again in the morning to sort out tomorrow night's shift, and goes about the business of packing up the back of the van so it's safe and secure, giving him time to think of what to do about Andy.

Less than 10 minutes later, he's in the drivers seat, looking at his phone again. He figures it's too late to call McNally now, the time well past midnight. He rolls his index finger over the keys though, takes a punt and hopes she won't wake up with the sound of a text coming through.

_Text me after the run. Let's grab a coffee before your shift starts._

Sam chews into the inside of his cheek hard as he hits the send button, and runs a hand over his chest a few times in an attempt to slow his heart rate right down.

He thinks of McNally turning in her bed again, grins to himself on the assumption that she's some kind of world champion bed-hog. He imagines she sleeps in singlets and boy-shorts: always ready to run.

He closes his eyes at the thought of it all and hopes when they do finally get together, she starts to sleep nude.

Sam shakes his head briskly, clearing the lust from his brain at least.

He starts up the dark van and calculates how long it'll take to check it in over at Guns & Gangs and get himself home and having some rest.

What Sam _doesn't_ see is one of Brennan's henchmen coming out the front door of the house he was just watching. He doesn't see the man light up a smoke and cast his eyes at the van driving down the end of the road. He also doesn't notice the man dial his cell, nor hear the conversation that starts:

"Hey boss. Van we bugged last week is back….Yup. Managed to switch some wires up too.

Swarek's the guy watching us…under of the instructions of Boyd? Sounds like we might be able to get the pin pulled if we get to Swarek's girl…McNally. Andy McNally. Dougie's hacking in to get some details up on her now."

* * *

Andy gazes at Sam's text for a good minute or two with a lunatic grin on her face. She decides against messaging him back tonight, only so he doesn't think of her as desperate. Still -

She puts a hand down her pants once more.

She comes again with thoughts of Sam's voice telling her she's pretty, and nonsense like that.

Andy gets the best night sleep of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks so much for the reads, alerts, and reviews to the start of this story! I realised I should've also mentioned prior to the first chapter that it's also AU from the perspective that Andy has already moved into her new apartment...which I'm sure you figured out for yourselves :)_

_Anyway, Here goes *&$%! ... _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Andy bounces out of bed extra early the next morning, singing brightly to her empty apartment as she prepares her gear-bag for work. She figures this way she'll be ready to roll as soon as she's back from her run - a quick shower after she sends Sam a text that will get them on the way to talking about -

_Stuff._

She hopes by the time she's done 5k's and freshened up that it has actually given him enough of a sleep in.

She resolves to think things through in the crisp morning air; work out what she wants to say exactly – well, the best way to put her feelings out there to Sam.

She's wondering whether maybe she should just run to his place, knock on his door and have coffee there, talk, and then –

_No._

No, Andy cannot, not, _not_ be getting ahead of herself.

She ties the laces extra tight on her new runners, and hunts around for the right sweater and cap. She fills her water bottle, grabs her earphones, and loads up some tunes that will keep her mood perfect for a run and a think.

She places the plugs in both ears not long after she's out the front door of her apartment block, pausing on the bottom stairs to look left and right and consider which way she'll run today.

It's cool...cold out this morning, winter just setting in and everything starting to take on the grey tones of bleak. The pavements and roads are a steelier shade and any trees that happen to be dotted along her vision have lost all their leaves.

Still. It's not all doom and gloom, the sun is there _somewhere_. Just. It's threatening to rise, but it looks like it might have an uphill battle. It's still pretty dark.

The cold and dark won't deter her though. At least it's not raining or snowing, and the light that is here this morning gives her a good enough view of everything in her direct vicinity.

She huffs out a foggy breath and watches the puff as it evaporates, thinks back to last night and Sam.

She's excited is the thing, a whole bundle of energy and nerves.

Yep.

This run is just what she needs.

At the end of deliberation, she decides she wants what little sun there will be sometime in the next hour or so, to be on her face.

She sets off at an easy pace, in no real rush to work her body hard today – just wanting to enjoy some fresh air and her new neighborhood.

She's noticed in the week she's been here that it's _quiet_ before sunrise.

Today, there are a few cars parked on the street as usual, but no one around – too early and cold even for dog-walkers perhaps.

She hopes she comes across at least a few friendly faces, even if they're only animals. She wants to get to _know_ her chosen neighborhood. It's not only the light of her apartment that attracted her, the vibe of the streets surrounding it felt...good.

* * *

One car across the road from Andy contains one of Brennan's men; he's on the phone to his buddy, discussing options it seems. "Struck it lucky, already. Yeah...She's on the move…and on foot. A block up from here is an alley that she's jogging past now. If she comes home the same way, we'll get to her there. So far, the coast is all clear..."

* * *

The only stop Andy makes on her first leg is at the park that has some exercise equipment, and some nice spots for a picnic. She jogs around inspecting it for potential. She considers it a viable option if ever she…and Sam…might want to mix up their gym routines and take them outdoors.

Andy also gives some thought to whether Sam is the picnic type. Probably not, she suspects.

She takes a little longer than usual, actually - taking more notice of her surroundings, with careful attention to the restaurants, coffee shops and other places that might interest her…and her friends.

She decides on the homestretch, she really _does_ like her new neighborhood a whole bunch. Sure, it may once not have been the best in the city, but it's eclectic character is interesting, and is clearly getting noticed more and more for the good things it offers to all kinds of new homebuyers now.

She's happy with her purchase decision, this is _right_ for now...until...

Well.

Until whatever comes next...

(She remembers Sam's grin as he checked out the bathroom after helping her move in. "Well, of course they got this part right," he teased her.

But. Andy could tell he was impressed, generally.

She was grateful to him for the assistance, and the way he was patient with the Epstein and Diaz double-act of being happy helpers.

Things only got slightly awkward when the three men as they argued over exactly what needed to happen to put together her bed.

It was at that point Andy had wanted to kick her rookie friends out, maybe help Sam with the task all by herself.)

* * *

She smiles now at a heavy-set man jogging in the opposite direction who offers up a friendly nod. He's the only other living soul she's seen so far, aside some birds in the park. Admittedly, she wouldn't like to meet him in a dark alley, but still –

Andy smirks to herself and decides she's going to tell Sam this morning that her "toilet factory is wonderful, thank you very much (_and feel free to come and spend time there any day or night to obtain evidence_)" before she moves on to the topic she really wants to discuss.

Andy figures she might as well just come out and tell him she has 'feelings' for him…and that she kind of has for some time. She wants to tell Sam that whilst she loved Luke, she realizes now that it was never quite right…and that even though her ego may still be bruised because of the betrayal, she is _ready_ to move on with her life…

Her thoughts build in momentum with every step that she takes; her brain, body, and heart all synching with one another and committing to be courageous with Sam, to tell him she wants to give _them_ a shot –

* * *

The heavy, dull thud hits Andy's shoulders out of nowhere, and then there's a sound of wood hitting pavement as she falls forward to the ground. The pain is acute but not so much that it blacks her out or anything.

As the palms of her hands graze the pavement, she considers it a saving grace that she hasn't face-planted as well.

The footpath jars through layers of clothing, no doubt causing damage to her already battered about knees.

It's only when she feels a hand yank hard at her pony-tail that her cop mode clicks in, every piece of physical training coming to the fore, despite the pain that her body is in.

She jerks her body backward as far as she can and kicks her leg out, curling it around both legs of her attacker and managing to trip him to the ground. Somehow she scrambles forward out of his tight grasp –

Only to be met with the brick wall in front of her – the legs of the 'jogger' she saw just moments ago.

"What…" she strangles out breathlessly, as the guy plants a foot hard into the centre of her back, leaving her no option but to keep her body and face parallel to the ground.

The next few minutes are brutal; a friend of her two attackers joining in to taunt Andy as she tries over and over again to fight them all off. They pull her off the ground after kicking her sides with reasonable force, only to punch her body over and over again.

"I have no money on me…" she tells them eventually, after a fourth punch to her abdomen left her falling all the way back down. There are tears burning her eyes and her body is left without the tenacity that would normally at least take one of these jerks down.

One of the men pulls her up again rough by the scruff of her sweater, and bumps her against the brick wall of the alley they've dragged her further and further into. "We're gonna give you simple instructions, _Officer McNally_. And you're gonna follow each to a T."

Andy thuds her head back light against the brick wall behind her, a response to the way he just curled his fingers around her neck.

She chokes in a few gasps of air; both in recognition of what he's said and the fact she's terrified it could be her last.

She nods at the three men finally, just once. Tries to absorb every feature and descriptor of each so she can run the profiles on the system later today.

"We know your man's watching, _Andy_. And you're gonna get the op pulled." The guy has the most startling blue eyes she's ever seen - clear and icy and menacing, they bore straight into her. "No one else needs to know about our encounter except _Donovan Boyd_, got that?"

Andy's brow furrows momentarily, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place that these are the guys Sam was watching last night. "You **don't** say anything to your boyfriend…or anyone else. Understood? No crying to Swarek...or he's dead." He gives her a kick on the shin to prompt an answer, eliciting a wince from Andy.

Andy glances over to the buddies of blue-eyes, notices one showing her the tip of a pistol from inside his coat. She figures these guys are not only serious, but they are _dangerous_...the fact that they haven't bothered with disguises is a dead giveaway that they'll finish the job if they have to. All Andy can think of now is how to remain as calm as she can.

She nods cautiously, her eyes pleading with the man that's holding her neck. "You tell Boyd we _know_. You tell him he's screwed up his op and needs to pull it _today_."

Andy's brain feels short-circuited, her grasping at exactly how she's going to pull herself together, do her job today, and get Donovan Boyd to do his part. "Understood," she strangles out with a guttural moan, feeling all kinds of pain from different parts of her body.

"We find out you've fucked us over, _you're _dead,_ Swarek's_ dead, and anyone else that's important to you will start dropping one by one." The guy is practically spitting in her face as he says it, one hand below poking hard into her ribs. Andy has no doubts they mean it, she has no idea how they know of her connection to Sam…or how they've found out about the operation, but if they know that much…they probably know _more_.

The guy with the gun points it at her. "Now. Run along, _Officer_. You best be getting to work."

The man holding her neck releases her and stands back, a gesture she assumes is going to mean he'll let her go now.

As she goes to step forward however, he punches her once more and hard in the stomach again. The force of it flings her back against the wall, and the only thing she can do is let herself slide all the way down it and back to the ground.

Double over, she watches the three men walk away casually, around the corner to a spot she can no longer see. The pain has spread a dull ache all through her that makes her want to lie on the pavement for a very long time.

She struggles against it though, working her way up to first her knees, and then feet. She stands still for another couple of minutes; a hand clenched on her side at the shooting pain she thinks might be caused by a cracked rib or two. She takes her breaths slowly; focusing on how her body reacts to make sure it's nothing more serious than that.

After another few minutes, she starts walking slowly, trying not to think of the pain that continues to ripple across the places she must have some huge bruises spouting. Andy wants to get her head thinking about what it needs to think about, and quickly. Boyd's op is obviously a time-bomb, and Sam is at the heart of it. Her priority is to keep him…and her…and everyone around them _safe_, they can worry about locking these assholes away after that.

* * *

It's only when Andy manages to get through the front door of her apartment that she realizes the sequence of problems, and that she has to act fast. The first thing she needs to do is to head to the bathroom –

She's not sure whether it's trauma of the injury, or stress in general, but she heaves over the bowl of her toilet.

Bile remains in her throat as she peels her clothes off carefully and takes a good look at the bruises and welts across her torso, and parts of her arms and her legs.

She uses her phone to take pictures of herself, evidence for when it might be needed. Right now, no one needs to know about the superficial marks across her, she'll just keep them all under wraps.

* * *

Andy lets the hot water of her shower flood her senses, taking extra care to wash her body, because of the pain and how dirty and violated she feels.

She's copped some injuries in her time; it's what happens when you put yourself in the line of fire on the job. But -

When she gets back out of the shower, she looks in the mirror and down over her body again. This time is particularly _ugly_, a series of black, blue, and purple marks that spread the width of her stomach.

She notices her attackers were careful not to hurt her _too_ much though, careful not to mark her up where it's so obvious that any onlooker would ask questions about what happened to her.

She inspects her neck and face closely in the mirror, notices a couple of scratches from the pavement and brick walls. She also notices a couple of faint finger imprints on her neck.

These guys knew what they were doing.

And they knew just where to stop.

* * *

Andy grits her teeth and continues to get ready. She is determined to be in a state ready to play out the plan of action that started to take form in the shower –

She may be a little battered.

But Andy is still...capable...

Finally fully dressed, Andy sits on her couch staring at the screen of her phone -

The first thing she does is to leave a message for Best, letting him know she'll be a couple of hours late, having "tripped and sprained her ankle on a run," and that she's going to get it checked. She hopes that also serves the purpose that she'll be given desk duty when she does arrive later, giving her a chance to look into her attackers and no doubt keep track of Boyd.

After a few deep breaths, she makes the call to Sam. She feels her walls crumble before she hits speed-dial 2, so upset that she can't see him, talk to him, yet –

"Hey," she's greeted with, somewhat cheerily for Sam. "How was the run?"

Andy bites her lip, hating herself for the lie she's about to give, but terrified of what might happen if she doesn't do exactly what she was told.

She forces a tentative smile on her face in an effort to get her voice right. "Ugh, not great. Such a clutz. Rolled my ankle and took a fall to the ground."

And, _of course_ this excuse is not going to help keep Sam at bay, the way he worries about _anything_ that ever happens to her. "What…you okay?" His voice has gone from happy to anxious in three seconds flat.

"Yeah, yep." Andy cuts in quickly, wanting to put this fire out quickly before he's over here in her loungeroom and making her keep her foot off the ground. (Any other time, and. Well. Andy would like that a lot). She shakes her head and blinks, remembering its life and death they're talking about here...

Not just hers..._his_. Sam's life.

"All good, just strapping it….but…um…can we raincheck the coffee until…um…until later on." Andy realizes then, she might have to delay the coffee for a little while yet. She can't go down the path of telling him what she wants, and then keeping him at bay if he wants the same things too…

She shakes her head again.

_Life and death Andy, this is not about your desires._

"Ah. Right. 'Course…running late for work, huh?" There's a smirk back in Sam's voice which gives Andy the most genuine, albeit tiny of smiles, since the attack. "I'll come pick you up…"

"Nope." Andy butts in abruptly, panicking, "Trace is on her way. "Called her a few seconds ago."

There is a long, long, _long_ pause at the end of her phone.

"Oh. Okay...I…yeah…sure." Andy frowns, feeling her heart drop the way Sam's voice sounds hurt. "S'long as you're alright."

A couple of errant tears make their way down Andy's cheek. "Um. Woulda called you earlier…just…yeah. Figured I'd let you sleep if I wasn't gonna drag you out for coffee." All she wants is to bury herself in Sam's chest right now, let him wrap his arms around her, and help with all of this. But if him knowing the danger they're both in means he's a dead man walking, she just has to keep a clear head –

Andy hears a sigh at the end of the line, no doubt Sam's bemused exasperation at her antics. "Whatever you say, McNally…I'll um. See you later, okay?"

"Totally," Andy tries on brightly. "Look forward to it."

* * *

Sam hangs up the phone feeling…a whole lot of things. He's been up and showered for a half hour now, ready to swing by McNally's and fill her up with whatever sugar and cream with coffee concoction she wants. He's disappointed for starters, still -

He's endeared by McNally's babbling as usual, but something about the whole conversation felt kind of _off_.

He can't quite put his finger on it, but it sounded a little like she was hiding something from him, which…hurts. (All though, he's one to talk. It's not like he's out and out shares his concerns – or a whole lot of crap – with her).

He can't help but feel a little anxious even if it is nothing serious, even if she is telling the truth. If it is her ankle, even if it's only a sprain, she'll have to be on desk duty. She'll have to take things easy for a good few days –

Sam wonders if she'll 'fess up to Frank, briefly considers calling the boss himself until he figures McNally would well and truly kill him if he actually did that.

He scrubs a hand over his face a couple of times, pinching the bridge of his nose the last time up. He wonders what she wanted to talk about this morning; wonders if that's got anything to do with what she might _not_ be telling him this morning.

He groans and smacks at the corner of his kitchen bench, feeling furious with himself that he didn't go on the run with her – sleep or no sleep. He feels his heartrate pick up as he wonders whether now she might avoid telling him whatever the hell -

Damn it.

This girl is going to be the death of Sam.

* * *

Andy bites at her fingernails, as she waits for the person to answer her next phone call.

She hears the operator at the other end tell her in a nasal voice: "Putting you through now."

Finally, after more waiting, she's hears the gruff voice, clearly irritated by a distraction by her. "What's up, McNally?"

Andy sucks a breath in and puts aside her own irritation. She figures there's only one way to get Boyd actually listening to her, and that's to be nothing but professional and courteous. "I have some information on a case I believe belongs to you."

There's some silence at the end of the phone, like maybe Boyd is gauging the importance of the information – without Andy telling him at all. "Oh yeah? Mind me asking how _you_ know what cases I'm working? Division 15 isn't involved in my work generally speaking, McNally."

Andy is prepared for that question. She rolls her eyes at his snotty tone and gets on with business. She assumes that Sam wasn't meant to tell anyone about his involvement with whatever surveillance he's doing, so she doesn't want the arrogant detective undermining Sam's moral code. "I'm not telling you that over the phone. I'll be at your office in half an hour. You need to trust me on this, it's information you need. One of your operations has been compromised and put a number of lives in danger."

Andy guesses it's the authenticity and seriousness to her tone that gets her past the vast array of obstacles that Boyd would normally throw her way. She's met with some silence again, and then he huffs out a breath. "You can have five minutes of my time. Then you're back to the sandpit, okay?"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N Look at me, caving and putting another chapter up in under 24 hours. _

_I couldn't resist the doe eyes of Catelyn788, RookieBlueAust, evelinav, lissam_13, CaRBFan, sourgummysharks, Pamela, MirzaSammy, or anyone else who piped in about an early posting over on Twitter. (Nor could I resist the temptation and bribes of peanut butter cups from Meliecom)._

_Especially though, I could not say no to **RB_Anon**, whose idea this whole thing is anyway. This one's for her as a thanks for the inspiration...and all the fabulous support that particular Twitter account gives during this stupid hiatus :)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

By the time Andy gets out of the cab, she's on edge again.

Her body is still throbbing in too many places, and she's finding herself trusting anyone that crosses her path less and less.

She looks up to the tall building before she enters it, wonders briefly how much time Sam has spent here.

Mostly, she wonders whether he still wants to work with Guns & Gangs and be away from division 15. Andy bites her lip at the thought, a frown crossing her face as she thinks of not having Sam as a partner –

Of not having him _there_.

She makes her way into the foyer eventually, showing her badge and other ID first to the brawny security guards and then a young eager-looking blonde that isn't too busy in the reception area.

"Officer McNally to see you, Detective Boyd," the girl says cheerily into a telephone. She has a tone that's in complete contrast to the steel and glass that this building is comprised of. She smiles back at Andy as she hands her a pass and some directions to find Boyd.

* * *

Boyd's as smarmy as ever when Andy arrives at his office.

He's perched up on the edge of his large, impressive (albeit messy) looking desk with both his legs and arms crossed. It's like he's been sitting there waiting for her way too long already.

She looks past him briefly to scan the walls of his office. Each of the surfaces is clouded with a large pinboard of some kind - gory photographs and names with arrows to the pictures. She imagines the inside of his brain is messy and complicated too; years and years of experience seeing and doing and being on a job that isn't for the faint-hearted.

For a fleeting moment, she wonders what similar experiences have done to Sam. He's a man of mystery, generally speaking. It's definitely one that Andy wants to unravel though, she just wonders how tricky and complicated that adventure might actually be.

Andy wonders how well Boyd knows Sam. She puts them at roughly the same age, and contemplates whether they may have gone through the Academy together. She's tried thinking about Sam as a rookie before, so far she hasn't come up with any conclusive images as to how similar or different he may have been back then.

Out of the corner of her eye, Andy notices Boyd check his watch.

He's clad in his typical fanfare of leather jacket, jeans and a tee. The scruff on his face is about the same as Andy's seen before, and his stupid head has got that tilt he gets going the same stupid way.

The way he cocks his head…

_Cocky._

_Cock._

_Cock-head._

These are just a few of the things that run through Andy's brain. She would giggle at her musings, if not for the situation at hand.

Andy does well not to roll her eyes as he stares her down. By now she just wants her mission here to be successful and then for Boyd to get out of her and Sam's life.

He doesn't offer her water, or a seat, evidently serious when he said he had minimal time for her. "Okay. S'up, Rookie?"

Andy does roll her eyes all the way then. What is this guy? Some sort of teen rap wanna be?

"You do realize I've been cut loose, right?" Andy queries haughtily, before she can bite her tongue.

Boyd responds as though he doesn't hear her, which – is not a good start. "What's this important intel you got?" he continues bluntly, steamrolling the end of Andy's question. "And, more importantly: _How_ did _you_ get it?"

Andy wishes like anything she had a glass of water, the stern glare Boyd is giving is definitely not helping her nerves. In the end, she hedges she has to go for as much truth (or part truth) as she can…carefully…monitoring the reactions of the detective along the way.

"This morning I was accosted by three men, a block from my home." Andy sounds like she's up in the witness box, she feels like it too. "They knew your name, they knew Sam's name…I believe they knew a number of things about all of us. They knew about some op you were doing…that I assume involves _them_."

Boyd's eyebrows are sky high, unsurprisingly. But still, a part of his expression at least suggests that he is suspicious of how the hell they knew about _Andy_ at all.

Andy continues undeterred, wanting to get the details out before Boyd asks his predictable barrage of questions. "They threatened me with physical violence and a gun…giving clear instructions that unless you pulled the pin on the operation that involves Sam…they'll hurt us...or worse. Me. Sam. They'll kill us."

Andy waits then, ready.

To her dismay, the first thing out of Boyd's mouth is a loud whistle, and then a laugh.

He follows it up with what she feared most:

_Disbelief. _

"What the hell, McNally? You got issues with your boyfriend doing some hours for me, you take that up with _him._" He scoffs some more and tips his chin at her. "What sort of police are you? Trying to get Swarek off an op…what…so he can spend more time with _you_? Jesus, McNally. You're not in a fucking fairytale, Swarek's not Prince Charming. He's got big fish to fry…"

It sounds as though Boyd is happy to continue with his diatribe, but Andy has heard enough -

Andy is _mortified_, Boyd sniggering and being an ass.

She grabs for her phone and scrolls the images of herself, because no way is she pulling her top up for Donovan Boyd…even under these dire circumstances. Thank god her underwear from this morning wasn't anything too revealing, she's pretty sure he'd have a field day with the images if they suggested anything _intimate _about Andy.

She points to her phone and collects her voice to give him a good dressing down. "What sort of police do you _think _I am, Boyd?" she hisses as he furrows his brow looking at the images, his mouth going a little loose and in shock.

Andy spends the next few minutes describing in detail her attackers and what they were wearing.

At the end of her plea, she confesses: "Yes, okay. Sam mentioned he was doing surveillance for you, but until the beating I took this morning, I knew _nothing_ about this operation. Nothing at all." Aside the fact that Andy's voice got louder at the end, she has surprised herself by remaining relatively calm, and professional at least.

For his part, Boyd's face has turned decidedly more serious, acknowledgement that he knows exactly what thugs Andy is talking about. He goes dead quiet to start with, but then –

"What the hell have you two done?" the detective practically screams at her. "You've screwed up my op."

Andy's jaw drops open, gobsmacked.

Boyd _cannot_ be serious. _Seriously_. "I know _nothing_ about how those men knew to get to _me_," Andy yells back at him, the two now toe-to-toe. "And Sam knows absolutely nothing about all of this."

Boyd takes a step back and away from Andy then, a different expression that Andy doesn't quite understand passing those scruffy features of his.

"Sammy doesn't know about this morning?" he asks in a nervous voice.

Andy peers back at him, finally figuring out that Boyd probably figures he's done for if Sam knows Andy got hurt because of a case of his.

She glares at him, and musters up all the strength she has left. "The only person they wanted to know anything was _you_." Her shoulders sag in resignation. "Please, Boyd. They know you're watching now, it's over…"

He snaps back to attention and stares Andy down. "They're not who we're after McNally. The op can go on…we'll just watch who we're after direct."

Andy's eyes go very wide, and her voice high-pitched despite her best efforts. "No. No. No. You're gonna send Sam from the firepan into the fire? No. Please. No."

It's a stormy brew of bickering between Andy and the detective for the next 5 minutes; a to and fro of arguing how much danger anyone will be in if Boyd moves the surveillance from the men who attacked her direct to the source.

"We use a new car, go without wires until I can get someone inside…" Boyd talks in circles, to himself more than anything.

"Are you not hearing me?" Andy shouts, waving her hands in the general vicinity of Boyd's bearded face. "Those beefheads will have informed their boss. They're gonna be extra vigilant now. You're sending Sam into the crossfire…" Andy is frantic and she can't help it, trying every ploy, phrase and tone she can think of to get the belligerent detective to see some kind of sense. He can't be this _stupid_ –

"Okay," he puts a hand up, effectively shutting her down. "Okay, McNally…you're right." He blows out a breath of air noisily and puts his hands on his hips. "I'll call Sammy now, call it off for tonight." He nods at her and gnashes his teeth. "I'll close the file temporarily…re-strategize…start it up when they won't suspect." Boyd keeps nodding through his sentences, he's hardly talking to Andy any more; a series of mutterings that she assumes are self-motivational talks.

Just in case he's not serious though, Andy points her finger to the direction of his phone. "I want to hear you tell him." Andy stares at the detective, with all the tough-guy and bravado she can. "_Now_."

Boyd rolls his eyes and huffs at her; the two engaging in some more hissing at one another until the detective finally backs down, probably just wanting Andy out of his sight.

She watches on as Boyd dials what she can reasonably deduce is Sam's mobile number.

Andy looks at her watch as Boyd waits for the pick-up, and assumes by this time that Sam would be getting ready for his shift at 15. Both her and Boyd tap their foot, Andy anxiously hoping that the problem is about to be resolved – short-term at least. (She's going to look into the files herself when she can; obviously Boyd is an incompetent fool...)

"Sammy. Yup. Hey buddy…" Andy watches Boyd's face as he listens to Sam. "Yeah, no. 'Bout that. Op's off…"

After some further silence and Andy's ever increasing relief, he continues; "Yeah, least for a week probably…we've got some new intel we have to sort through first."

Boyd laughs after another pause, obviously Sam having said something funny.

Which, okay. Guys are just _weird _sometimes. Andy can't think of what corny joke Sam would've told during a conversation like this. "No worries, my man. Keep you posted, okay?"

Boyd cocks his head as he puts the receiver back in its place. "Happy, McNally?"

Andy replies softly, breathing easier than she has in the past couple of hours. "You know it's the right thing," she says though, still not wanting Boyd to get away with being such a prat.

He flicks his hand as a half-hearted wave goodbye, and then moves it about more like _scurry along now_.

Andy doesn't have time for more of his school-yard behavior though, she now needs to get herself to work. She gives him one last glare before she turns –

"Oh, and ah. McNally," he calls out after her. "Remember no talking about any of this? I know what you and your big mouth are like."

Andy turns on her heel, disregarding the sharp jabs of pain that sink into her on sudden movements. She's flustered and offended, but doesn't want to give Boyd the satisfaction, so she keeps walking away.

"You know he's out of your league, right?" Boyd jeers, leaning against his office doorjamb as Andy gets into the lift to go down.

She looks over at him on that, pressing the buttons quickly to make the doors close on his stupid face. "Jealousy is a totally unattractive look on you, Boyd."

She smirks at the snarl he responds with as the lift doors finally close.

(Andy hasn't quite worked out the whole man-crush thing that people like Dov and Boyd have on Sam, she assumes it's not sexual and that they just want to…be him, or something like that. Still, who knows with Donovan Boyd. Andy doesn't think she'll _ever_ work that asshole out).

* * *

Boyd slinks back to his office, irked by Sammy's rookie, and considerably concerned about this latest twist in his case. He only needs a few more pieces of evidence for the stuff he might be into now, and he's positive the henchmen are the most likely to slip up.

He was also convinced that some low-key surveillance would suffice; what with Swarek saying no to undercover on Brennan himself.

Don guesses maybe the loser that _was_ doing some surveillance on them a week ago has stuffed up somehow; the idiot was caught sleeping on the job when Don drove past to check up on him once.

Still, that's of no consequence now.

He'll switch Sammy to a car less obtrusive tonight, maybe make a call to the neighbor and get Swarek watching from there, put in some new bugs when Brennan's men go out. It'll be fine…Sammy knows what he's doing…heck, Don will even clue him in that these jerks might have an inclination that the cops are sniffing about.

Don pulls the top drawer of his desk part way open and retrieves the mobile that was conveniently on silent. He hits the button and sniggers as he hears himself talking to his own voicemail.

For once in the past few years, Don's happy his number is similar to Sammy's; he's damn well sick of taking his calls.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Andy makes her way out of the locker rooms quietly; she's been assigned to desk duty alright – and for the first time that she can remember is actually looking forward to sitting and focusing on some boring paper work.

She'll get it out of the way quickly, and then spend some time looking for clues on how this Boyd case might be bought to a close once and for all.

She admits to being jumpy, her friends in and out between patrol seemingly asking her a thousand questions about why she's late today, and when they find out, telling her to just go home and put her feet up.

All in all, it's not too bad though, she rips through a good portion of the paperwork quickly, her touch typing paying dividends and the adrenalin that courses through her body making her work extra fast.

She's probably still an hour or so from getting to the end of the pile, but it's still going to leave her a good few hours of shift that she can do some snooping –

"_Shit!_" Andy yelps.

* * *

It's only a large paper cup filled with her favorite from Timmy's that's just been planted on her desk carefully, but judging by McNally's reaction, Sam might as well have given her a grenade.

"You're not searchin' for porn on the clock are you, Officer McNally?" Sam tries his dimples on her, to see whether they might help bring her pulse rate back down.

Hmm. Maybe not –

The bambi eyes have gone wide as her gaze bounces between his face and the coffee that's now just north of her fingertips.

"Yeah. Um. No. Of course not. I mean." McNally stutters in that cute way that she does. "Geez, Sam. You scared the crap out of me."

Andy looks over her shoulder to see if anyone else is around presumably, and then stares back at Sam. "Shouldn't you be out on patrol by now?"

Sam frowns instinctively, and then sucks in his lips. He looks around the room at the other couple of officers who are on desk duty, both of whom just cast their eyes back down toward whatever files they were reading before McNally's outburst, daily crosswords perhaps.

Sam lifts a hand and scratches at the back of his neck, thinking of ways he can have some more fun with McNally. If she's not going to calm down for him, maybe he can rile her up a little bit more –

Eventually he puts his hand over his heart and glares at her. "And here I was thinking you liked havin' me around."

That one gets her somewhere, a completely fetching blush spreading from her cheeks out to her ears.

She sucks in a half smile too, not the beaming one that normally comes with the start of a laugh. It looks like she's got other things on her mind that might prevent that particular one that Sam likes so much.

"Shut up," she scoffs at him eventually though, a familiar whack of the back of her hand brushing quick and gone across one of his arms.

Sam perches himself right on the corner of the desk. He looks down at her pretty features, and traces his index finger in a single stripe across a part of her desk, somewhere in between where he sits, and where she's got an arm resting near the keyboard.

He's riding alone today, so he figures he's only answerable to himself and the boss at the end of the day.

He taps at the cup near her, which sits at the end of the line he's just drawn. "You, ah. You couldn't come to coffee. Thought I'd bring it to you." He keeps a lookout on the rest of the room as he says it, not wanting to get caught up in Andy's eyes right now.

When he does glance down at her, she's smiling bigger…but…shy.

"Thankyou," McNally says after a lot of air between them - the sound of her voice quiet but clear as a bell.

He watches on as she looks back down at the paperwork in front of her. "You want some help with that?"

And this is the point Sam gets a little suspicious again.

The way those big eyes of hers went even bigger for just a few seconds, and that damn bite into the flesh of her bottom lip.

"You don't have to do that," she smiles politely, after she manages to school her features again.

Sam launches himself off the desk abruptly, Andy's eyes burning the back of his head as he goes to the next desk and rolls its empty chair over to seat himself _right_ next to her.

He's practically got his mouth on his ear when he asks her: "Didntcha hear, McNally? I'm the boss today." He grins at her with some teeth and eyebrows right up. "Told myself to help out injured colleagues and be nice for once."

* * *

Andy giggles without being able to help it, the warm breath of Sam sending a shiver right down her neck.

Her stomach and heart feel like they've been flip-flopping out of control since she realized it was a coffee and a Sam on her desk.

"Dork," she teases him, feeling a thousand years younger.

She's trying so hard to focus on the fact that she got belted to high hell this morning, and that she needs to figure some stuff out to ensure –

"Hey. No back-chatting the boss," Sam says sternly. He picks up the papers in front of them and shuffles until they're in a neat, square pile before he splits it in two. "How's the ankle by the way?"

He's not looking at Andy as he asks the question. He's looking at the damn papers – swapping some about so maybe Andy gets the trickiest ones in terms of data entry.

She feels everything inside of her flutter faster, the way he's got a nervous but warm tone when he thinks she may not be okay.

"It's…it's not so bad…" Andy tries to appease him, unable to take her eyes off his face.

Sam rolls himself in the chair backward, and then across to the desk he got the seat from. He turns the computer on there and crunches his knuckles while he waits for it to boot up. "Oh good, so it'll be up for the walk between the truck and getting some dinner tonight."

Andy swallows thickly, having assumed Sam might have forgotten about _that _once the coffee date was rain-checked.

She really, really can't think of a valid excuse to give him. For as much as she desperately wants to have dinner with Sam, she can't see how she's going to do a 'feelings talk' with him when this case is still unresolved.

The next issue is that sentence from him really, really didn't sound like a question –

Andy chews on her lip, considering…

Maybe they _can_ do dinner. Andy can very gently try and ask him about some of the details of the case. No doubt he'll tell her that Boyd's given him leave –

Andy casts her eyes down, trying not to make her panic obvious. The fact that he _doesn't_ have to go to work again straight after dinner means that maybe he'll take Andy home, and maybe he'll expect to come inside… And Andy will _want_ him to come inside. But then –

He can't _see_ her. Well. Andy can't be _letting_ him see her…

Not that Sam would be expecting to –

God.

_God._

Andy needs to get a grip on herself.

* * *

"You okay over there, McNally?" Sam watches a myriad of thoughts cross Andy's face. She's in a damn state, that's for sure. "What. You thinkin' of standing me up. _Again_?" Sam hedges for a tease in his voice, but it sounds a little put-out, even to his own fucking ears.

McNally's head whips in his direction, lightning fast; her ponytail swooshing about like nobody's business as her eyes lock on his. "No. Um. Yeah. Let's do it."

Sam puts his chin in his chest and stares at her, alarm bells ringing all the way through his whole sense of being.

Sam's done with this backwards and forwards they've got going on.

He's going to tell her…_something_…tonight, and it's going to include a promise that he's all in – whenever she's _ready_. Whenever she _wants_.

"Seriously, McNally. S'everything alright?"

* * *

Andy looks up at Sam, and in a moment of weakness almost confesses _everything_.

If he freaks out, he freaks out. But he deserves to know, and they can try to handle this together. She simply can't lie to Sam anymore –

"Yo, Sammy!" Oliver's voice booms across the quiet room. "Streets have turned busy outta no place. McNally can do her own coloring in, come get that cruiser out on patrol."

* * *

Sam snorts at his buddy and raises a hand in surrender. "Comin' brother," he sighs with some exasperation. "Ready or not."

He walks past Andy on the way past and puts a hand light on her shoulder, noticing the tiny flinch as he does so. He frowns again but commits himself to not thinking about what that might mean until later. "Pick you up at 7, okay?"

As he steps away from her he tweaks her ponytail out of habit, earning him a shit-eating grin from Shaw.

* * *

Andy curses her body for flinching under Sam's touch, his fingers for as light as they were landing on a spot that was knocked against the brick wall a few times.

She puts on her best smile for him and nods in the affirmative when she feels the tug on her ponytail though. "Can't wait."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks again for reading, and a special one to the reviewers. You're thoughts and feedback are appreciated very much!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam sits outside Andy's apartment block tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

He'll go up in a second –

He'll go up any moment now.

He's just been trying to make out what's going on with Boyd and his third change of plan for surveillance tonight.

Now all he knows is that he has to check in over at Guns & Gangs at 10.30pm.

Sam is starting to feel really uneasy about the whole damn thing. Fortunately it does mean that he gets to have a few hours to spend with Andy, feed her and get her talking about whatever she wants, and then bring her home and –

Yeah.

Sam thinks it may be best not to get ahead of himself given McNally's unease while she was in his close proximity today.

He lets out a loud sigh as he opens the truck door and walks the pavement and few steps up to buzz at her number.

It's not long until he hears her, that voice when she's a little breathless: "Sam?"

Sam's eyes pop just a touch, wondering how many other guests she might be expecting tonight. "The one and only," he teases after a pause that might be too long.

There's a slight waiver to her voice when she tells him to come up, but it sounds like she might be wearing a smile as well at least.

* * *

Andy dashes into the bathroom as quick as she can one final time; checking her make-up, hair and making sure no bruises are poking about.

She's thankful for the cooler weather, feeling comfortable in her favorite pair of dressy jeans and an emerald green v-neck sweater that looks great with a couple of the cuter scarves that she owns. The outfit might be hiding a lot of skin, but it's not unsexy, she thinks she looks nice –

Casual, but not too casual. She wanted to make a real effort here is the thing.

By the time Sam's knocking on her door, she's managed to get her boots on and scampers over to double-check it is actually him through the peep hole that's there.

She smiles at the sight of him. Even looking through one eye, he's handsome, wearing a dark button-down that hugs tight across his muscles and his leather jacket to ward off the cold.

Andy's stomach churns again and she pats a hand over it, opening the door with her other. "Heyyyy," comes out of her, all elongated and soft at the end – it's an attempt to relax, one long breath out.

Sam gives her a crooked smile. "Heyyyy yourself."

The two of them stand there gawking at one another for almost a full minute, warm searching eyes that thankfully almost manage to stay on one another's face the whole time.

"You, ah. You look great, Andy," Sam tells her quietly. He keeps a small smile on his face as he says it, and after. He's genuine with it, Andy can tell –

She feels a slight blush on her cheeks and smiles back at him. Andy's fairly certain it's the first time Sam's complimented her appearance…and it sounds so _nice_ coming out of his mouth. "Thanks," Andy responds finally, barely above a whisper. "You're looking…um…yeah. Pretty great yourself."

The rising blush she had on her face screams at her, obviously having wanted to go hide itself under a couch.

Before this point, Andy didn't really think of this as a _date_-date, but then again she guesses with Sam, nothing is ever really 'normal' -

And she likes it that way.

Sam clears his throat after another moment or two. "I figured you'd be happy to go to that pizza and pasta joint you like so much…bonus points this being their quiet night?"

Andy nods, glad that Sam's taking her somewhere she'll be comfortable and as confident as she can be, somewhere that's intimate but not with all the trappings where they might not feel like themselves. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

Sam doesn't know if he's just got hyper-vigilant senses when it comes to McNally, but he's 98% certain she's not walking quite the way that she normally does, aside from the sprain…which seems not bad at all, given she's barely limping.

But something else isn't her normal stride.

He puts it out of his brain, telling himself he's stupid – maybe it's the boots, he hasn't seen her in those ones before. Still -

As he holds the passenger door open, he notices the tiniest scrunch of her forehead as she steps up into the truck.

She disguises it pretty well though, flashing a toothy grin at him as she leans back in the seat, but then holds off putting the belt on until Sam walks around to the drivers' side.

He wonders whether she maybe did something more than an ankle on the run today, gave herself an injury that she's hiding because it'd mean desk work for more than three days.

* * *

It's not long after they get to the restaurant that things get tense for Andy.

(The conversation while they were looking over the menu was all about food and Sam's afternoon on the beat).

On her return from the bathroom, she sits herself back down opposite Sam and prepares to tuck into her half of the fettucine.

She holds her glass for a cheers with her red, and then she notices Sam hasn't poured himself any wine. "You're not having any?" She knows Sam is generally more of a beer or scotch kind of guy, but he did buy this bottle after all –

One side of his mouth twists and matches a small shrug of his shoulder. "Best not to, what with my shift tonight."

Andy frowns automatically, a stunned expression no doubt engulfing her face. "What…"

Sam grins at her, mocking. "Didn't you get the memo at the Academy, McNally. Don't drink and work. Can't be falling asleep on the job." His voice is relaxed and very Sam-ish, like nothing has phased his career choice of this week.

Well.

Andy's mouth drops open all the way then, a desperate attempt to suck in some air. Her brain is spinning at this stage, her heart about to come clear through her chest.

She has no idea _what_ Boyd has changed since she heard him call things off with Sam this morning, but whatever it is…it's not at all good. She stalls, trying to think of the best way to extract the information from Sam. "I…didn't think you were working tonight."

Sam cocks his head a little and looks at her with some curiosity spread all over his face. "I told you it'll be double-shifts for a while…"

All of a sudden, Andy wonders whether she might need to use the bathroom again, her feeling incredibly ill. Her volume goes up more than a notch: "I thought…_no_. Sam you _can't._"

Her head is spinning and she's on freefall, there's no other way to sort this out than come clean with Sam now…and hope for the best.

* * *

McNally looks pale from where Sam's sitting. He's thinking maybe he'll have to call for a waiter, request a bucket from the damn kitchen because there's no way she'll make it to the bathroom on time. He does his best with what's at his disposal. He pours her some more water. "Andy. You okay?"

There are practically tears in those big, brown eyes of hers, a stunned deer staring straight into oncoming traffic.

Sure, Sam's aware it's not the ideal situation to take a woman out to dinner, and then rush off to work. But McNally knows the situation. Sam assumed they were on the same page about what time they had tonight.

Also: there's no way McNally is the clingy type that wants to keep Sam under lock and key…well, not that he would've guessed.

If there were a seat next to her, he'd go sit beside her. Maybe put his arm around her and tell her he'll take her out every night of the rest of her life if she wants –

"I thought Boyd pulled you out…" she says to him eventually, this constant shake of her head.

Sam frowns and wonders what the hell.

How would McNally know anything about this operation aside what _he_ tells her -

* * *

"Sam. Didn't Boyd ring you this morning? Tell you things were on hold?" Andy's voice is shaking and she knows it, but it's the best she can do. She holds tight to the glass of wine in her hand and then doesn't move another inch.

Sam looks totally baffled by Andy's question, it's not the face of a man that has had any news like that given to him…ever.

It's starting to dawn on Andy that Donovan Boyd is more than a jerk…he's practically dangerous.

"Why would he do that?" Sam asks carefully, his voice starting to creep with suspicion – a part of which sounds like it's leveled at Andy.

She closes her eyes and waits.

She thinks of this morning and those three men, and of how bad things might be if Sam gets in that stupid van again tonight.

When she opens her eyes, she relays the story to Sam the same way she did to Boyd earlier. It's factual and missing details of the rough-up she took.

Sam looks on in stunned silence, not interjecting once. He studies her face carefully, his eyes darting over her features as though he's trying to read between the lines.

"What do you mean accosted?" Sam asks when Andy has finished, apparently discarding the bits where he's a dead man walking.

"McNally, tell me exactly what you mean when you say they accosted you?" His features are stony and still as he asks her. He's honed in on the word 'accosted' as though it's a suspect, his voice sounding not so much the cool Swarek when he says "please" after a beat.

Andy thinks on her feet and fast, not wanting him to concern himself about the past and her, desperately needing Sam to think about now and him. She reaches a cautious hand in the direction of one of his, trying to get him to focus where she needs. "Sam, look at me. I'm fine. One hit me a few times, another showed me a gun..."

"You're fine?" Sam huffs, disbelieving. His eyes scan over as much of Andy's body that is within view of where he's sitting opposite her.

From where Andy is, she wonders whether he does have X-ray vision, else her layers will just evaporate under the heat of his gaze anyway.

"You get checked out? That where you were this morning?" And okay. His voice is kind of panicky here. There's a certain level of anguish Andy's seen on his face once or twice before: shootings and laundromat fires and the other night after she pulled Leslie from the car to name but a few.

"Sam. I'm okay. Got a little winded is all." Andy doesn't mean to snap, but it comes out that way. She has to move him through his worry for her and tell Donovan Boyd to go screw himself _now_.

"They know where you live," is what he comes up with next, a statement not a question; blunt and ten shades of what makes him an outstanding cop. "You can't stay there tonight."

Andy snorts. "I..."

"No arguments, McNally ...we're not messing around with these guys. We're taking you to the hospital to get you checked out, and I'm going to Boyd to get this thing pulled."

Sam's words are like rapid-fire bullets, darting around her and aiming for a target that's not really there. But at least it sounds like she won't have to worry about him being on this risky op any time soon -

"That's... that's good. But I don't need to go to hospital Sam…" Andy is adamant, the pitch of her voice threatening to rise way up high again. After all, she knows her own body well, knows there's no serious damage that's been done.

* * *

McNally's not going to hospital ...of course she fucking isn't; that stubborn mule head of hers.

Sam's stomach is like a washing machine, the thought of her being attacked or hurt in any way is almost too much for him to bare, let alone what those three meatheads are capable of...he's more than shocked she's sitting here now.

He knows she's tough; a strong, athletic woman that can hold her own in the field. But there were three of them...and with a gun. And this is all because of Boyd and Sam's case -

Suffice to say he's not feeling so hungry anymore. He just wants to get her somewhere they don't know she is; somewhere she's safe and that he can keep an eye on her too.

If anyone tries to hurt her again, Sam is pretty sure he'll hurt them right back.

_Fuck. _

God only knows if these bastards know where Sam - or anyone else connected to them - lives as well.

Sam really, really wishes she had of confided in him this morning - but, he gets why she didn't...understands the types of threats they would have leveled her way. Still…

She should've _trusted_ Sam to be able to deal with it, trust they could work though this together -

Approach Boyd together is what should've happened right back at the start –

"Hate to hurry you along, McNally, but. You, ah. You ready if I pay the bill?" Sam's mind is racing; he knows he's got to act fast. He also doesn't want to rush her though, doesn't want to freak her out.

Andy puts down her fork next to the half-eaten food and stares him straight in the eye. "First tell me where _we're_ going?"

* * *

Andy's not letting him take her to hospital, no way. And also: she's not letting him out of her sight. They're in this together now, and Andy needs to know he's okay at all times.

Sam puts his hand up in the air to beckon the maître d. "We're going to see Donovan Boyd."

* * *

On the way over to Guns & Gangs, Andy notices Sam continually check his mirrors.

She feels so stupid now, realizing these guys could've looked him up and tailed him as well. She's becoming more and more upset that she didn't tell him first.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, turning her face to the direction of his. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you straight away…I thought I could handle it…and that…was stupid. And it was stupid for me to trust Boyd, they just told me…and he told me..."

"Enough. Andy, enough," Sam responds soft but firm. "You were hurt and in shock and doing what you were told." He bites his lip hard and casts his eyes away from the road for a few moments, long enough to implore; "Just…can we agree we never keep _any_ secrets from one another…about anything…ever again?"

He turns his eyes back to the road then, a determined look on his face. "We have to be able to _trust_ one another…okay?"

Andy feels just awful. The sincerity in Sam's voice hits right in her heart.

She really didn't think this thing out at all properly. She only takes mild consolation in the fact that Sam was right about earlier…about the fact that maybe fear took over other instincts that may have been right. "Okay, yeah. Sam. God. Yes." Her voice is breaking as she says it, all sorts of vulnerable of what he might read into her not coming to _him_ when it happened.

He nods then, gives her a "good," simple and short.

* * *

"You ever gonna tell me that this thing had McNally's life… and my life…in danger?" Sam asks Boyd as they walk in his office, Sam having merely flashed his badge and continued walking when they first got in the building.

He's got McNally hot on his heels, her boots clicking behind him and a slower pace then she'd normally get up because of injuries, no doubt.

Don tilts his head and gives Sam a look that suggests two things. 1) That he's been sprung. 2) That he's pissed with McNally and/or her mouth. "Sammy," he starts, with that stupid snarl on his face. "It's gonna be okay…new car…new equip…"

"Not good enough," Sam interrupts, his voice feeling as rough as it sounds. "I don't give a shit about Brennan or any of his idiots right now, so here's what you're gonna do."

* * *

Andy nestles her body as close to Sam's side as she can, without it appearing she might have feelings that are more than professional.

She wants to make it known to both Sam and Boyd that she's with Sam all the way now: whatever he says. She _does_ trust him on this. And the fact that he is so determined and sure of himself given the situation, only serves to instill yet more confidence. His ability to think on his feet inspires her –

She stands and listens quietly as Sam rattles off the facts of the case to date and _tells_ Boyd that he has enough evidence to make arrests anyway.

Apparently, they've got stuff on Brennan that will put him away a long time, and if Boyd wants more…he's going to have to get it himself. He also demands Boyd to take an official statement from Andy when she's up to it, and in terms of the thugs that got to her this morning; "no judge is going to be okay with anyone attacking a cop".

Andy interjects briefly on that point: "And. I know for a fact they've all got rap sheets a mile long. I know who they are."

(She did manage to track them down on the system this afternoon, she knows if they get put away again, it'll be for a long time).

"But if I get Brennan and these guys for…" Boyd glares at Andy, and then more pleadingly at Sam as he tries to butt in.

"Nope. No." Sam shakes his head fiercely. He laughs mirthlessly and crosses his arms, staring Boyd down. "You're being fucking greedy Don. As if you can't get more on these assholes when they're already away. You think I didn't read the case file? You think I didn't know coming in to this that you couldn't make arrests already…that this was an op that would just serve to give us both some more stripes?"

That last tirade of Sam's seems to land somewhere in Boyd's pea-brain.

The detective twitches his mouth about and looks at Andy and Sam. And then rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright. Swarek. I need a few hours to put together enough troops to make the arrests….24 hours, probably..." Boyd's voice is resigned and more…respectful…than Andy has ever heard.

She looks up at Sam in awe, his directives to the detective having been taken on so easily. She wonders then what other operations Sam's already been through in his career, how many times he might've already been a dead man.

Despite the fact he professes to not be one for 'rules', he commands a whole bunch of respect.

* * *

"Fine." Sam continues on, having assumed already that Boyd would see things his way. "But since you've put us at risk, you need to get us somewhere safe. Hotel, safe-house, I don't care-"

"Pfft," Don snorts a little and shuffles some insignificant paper on his desk. "Love-shack," comes as a mutter from under his breath, a last ditch fight the detective is having with respecting McNally and Sam.

Sam takes three long steps toward his smart-mouthed colleague and stands close in his personal space. He won't get physical with him, but he will stare him down. "What did you say?" Sam knows his voice is flat and emotionless; no way will he let Boyd get under his skin.

Donovan looks up tentatively. "Nothing, Sammy." He shakes his head and glances at McNally briefly before he casts his eyes back at Sam. "Nothing at all."

* * *

It's twenty minutes after _that_ that Andy is sitting in the back seat of an unmarked car, on its way to who knows where. She watches the lights of the city glow, looks up at street signs as they whizz by.

Boyd and Sam exchange stern expressions with one another from the driver and passenger seat every so often, neither one saying a word.

* * *

"There's enough food and essentials here to get you through at least 48 hours," Donovan says as he unlocks the hotel room.

It's actually quite pleasant and not at all what Andy was expecting; a typical 4-star that a corporate client might stay in…except with a few extra things (like real food). She assumes they always have it ready for witnesses that might need it, or for coppers on the move.

"Ring this number in the morning," Boyd tells Sam flatly, pressing a couple of keys on a mobile and then giving it to him. (Burn phone, Andy reasons). "They'll organize change of clothes and anything else you might need until we make the arrests and green light your homes."

Sam nods. "Got it."

* * *

When Boyd leaves, Andy takes up position on the end of the queen-sized. (She figures maybe it's only couples or one person they ever put in here, and is surprised Boyd _didn't_ gesture something crude about the fact there was only the bed and a sofa in the room).

"What do we do now?" she asks Sam, watching on as he scans the room with his eyes.

He settles his gaze on her face eventually, his expression impossible for Andy to read.

"We wait," he says neutrally. "And we talk."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N and it seems I can't even handle my own cliffhangers ;)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

The way Sam's looking at Andy makes her eyes go very wide.

His expression has switched again; from cool, calm, collected Robocop, to the one he uses when he's searching her for any damage she may have incurred.

"First thing we're gonna talk about is whether you should've been at work today." Sam sounds rattled all of a sudden, like all this anxiety he may have been holding in between the restaurant and here has finally been set loose.

Andy speaks quietly, hedging her bets; "I told you, I'm f…"

"That's not what I think," Sam interrupts, less anxious and more determined. "On reflection, I'd say you've been carrying some pain all damn day."

Andy rolls her eyes without thinking, a gesture which gets Sam's back up even further.

"Bet big guys like that'd leave some nasty bruises – even if they didn't go as hard as they could." Sam's standing square in front of Andy now, hands on his hips and looking down at her-

His voice is starting to soften though, maybe like any second it will turn into a plead.

Andy's eyes settle on his chest momentarily, a second inspection of the way the button-down he's wearing clings just right to the muscles up there.

A heat in her body rises to the surface, causing some of her bruises to tingle and burn.

* * *

"Saaaaam…" McNally whines back to him eventually, that doe eyed gaze of hers travelling up his body is now inspecting his face closely.

Sam thinks she might be worried he's going to go crook on her for geating beat up for fuck's sake.

"Show me the bruises," Sam says maybe a little too boldly.

He figures he hasn't seen anything obvious on the skin he _has_ seen today, but all that limping and wincing and what-not that she's done makes a hell of a lot of sense now.

He wants to see for himself what these bastards have done to her, and he just –

Sam wants to make sure she's not being stupid with her stubborn nature. He will call for medical attention if he even thinks the places they hit her might have caused some damage that's more than superficial.

"No," Andy replies stroppy. "They're not even that big -"

"McNally. _Please_." Sam _is_ begging now, or as good as. "You don't show me, you know I'm gonna pace this floor the whole night."

* * *

Andy huffs.

She's embarrassed is all.

(It's not exactly how she imagined Sam would get to see that part of her body naked second time around. She doesn't want him seeing her weak and vulnerable and…broken this way).

She'd show him the photos from her phone, but then she realizes Boyd's got theirs until the Brennan arrests are made…the evidence, and in case they were being tracked.

Andy looks around the room, wondering how she can distract Sam.

"Can you get me a cup of tea, please?" Truly, her voice is ridiculous; a bundle of nerves wrapped up really tight.

"A cup of tea?" Sam snorts, tipping his chin in defiance. "McNally. C'mon, s.."

* * *

Sam stops himself there.

He _doesn't _want her feeling vulnerable with him.

He bites his lip in apology, and then says the words. "Yeah…yeah. Look, I'm sorry Andy…I just…God." He scrubs a hand over his face a few times and blows some air into it when he reaches his mouth.

He strides over to the kitchenette and turns the kettle on, opens a few cupboards searching out a couple of cups and whatever he thinks he might need. (He has a brief thought of raiding the mini-bar to help settle both of their nerves).

He bangs the doors closed again, taking a desperate glance around the kitchen at nothing in particular, before eventually -

He looks back at her.

McNally's sitting over there on the bed like a statue…just staring at him.

As he pours the boiling water into the cups and waits for the brew, he swallows the hard lump that's been forming in his throat this past couple of minutes. "I'm sorry our night ended up this way…I'm sorry…"

* * *

Andy wants to cry at the look on Sam's face; soft features gone softer, and those warm eyes that keep searching her -

Just because he _cares_ so much.

She can't take it anymore, can't handle the thought he might think this is his fault. Besides –

"Well, it's not such a bad place," she says with the barest twitch of her mouth.

She gets her body up slowly, careful not to display any residual aches and pains running around it.

She walks over to him and puts her hand on his forearm as he pushes her cup over the bench toward her. "Despite the fact that our lives might be in danger, you know there's no place…no one I would rather be with right now, right?"

They stand under the single light of the kitchenette just looking into one another's eyes for a while.

Sam smiles small at her. "I'm glad we're together too, Andy."

His gaze shifts to the floor and he taps the toe of one of his boots onto one of hers.

She can tell he's nervous about whatever he's about to say next, so she takes a punt and skims her fingers toward his elbow.

As she does so, Sam exhales loudly and Andy's heart skips a beat.

"Confession," Sam starts, clearing his throat.

His gaze still won't connect with Andy's eyes, but it does move upward, a quick glance at her face and then off to the side. "I really, really do not do so well when I think I might lose you for good."

Andy's heart shatters.

Or at least, it feels as though it does.

Her eyes flicker away as well, a few tears threatening to burn at the rims. She gnaws at her bottom lip and thinks of the times they've come close to that; stuff on the job…and her farcical relationship, and even crazier engagement to Luke.

"I…me too, Sam," she tells him softly.

And then she decides to _show_ him that she's serious.

"Before I show you where they hurt me…I want you to promise not to freak out, okay?" -

"I promise you, Sam. I promise, while it does still hurt…it's nothing to worry about…" Her voice is hoarse and quiet, her throat wracked with all the ups and downs of today.

Sam blinks and finally looks back into her eyes.

He nods slowly. "I…I'll try…"

* * *

He closes his eyes again for a few seconds, preparing for the worst.

When he opens them, the front of Andy's top is pulled up to what he assumes is just below the band of her bra.

It might as well be a solid bruise quite frankly; a series of blue, black, and purple marks that join together in one solid mass around her abdomen. He's seen worse, obviously.

But that's not what matters here.

What matters is that she was hurt, her body taking the fists of those guys because of a case he was on; because of her connection to Sam.

Sam is feeling very, very ill all of a sudden – kind of like he might throw up any second.

He reaches a hand to the spot that's most affected, he lets his fingers graze the skin there so light he's barely touching, feeling a small shudder from McNally as he does.

He pulls his fingers away quickly. "Sorry…sorry."

Andy makes a grab for the hand that's left her body and clings to it tight. "No…no, that's not why…Sam. _You_ didn't _hurt _me, okay?"

He looks into her eyes and can see that she's not lying, her own eyes desperate and blinking, and her breathing has sped up.

Sam steps in closer still, curling the hand that's free gentle around the bicep of the arm that she has holding up her top.

He concentrates on his own breathing and after what feels like hours, he bumps his forehead up against hers.

The two of them stand like that for another eternity, just breathing -

Breathing.

Breathing.

Andy shut her eyes a while ago, but Sam keeps a watch.

Once in a while he looks down to her bruised stomach, but mostly he stares into her face.

* * *

Andy feels those long lashes of Sam's tickle against her eyelids. They've been standing here toe-to-toe, forehead-to-forehead for what feels like forever -

But that's okay with her.

Now that they're holding on to one another, she doesn't _want_ to let go.

"They did this to you _because_ of me," Sam whispers eventually, his voice small and almost shaking.

Andy pops her eyes open on that, and comes face to face with Sam's big, earnest eyes.

She steps back just a couple of centimeters; enough to give them both enough space to battle this one out.

She keeps a hold of his hand though, and holds it real tight.

"This is not your fault, Sam. No way is this your fault. However they found out about the op…or you…or me…I highly doubt it's got anything to do with _either_ of _us_…"

He shakes his head, looking lost and oblivious to Andy's words. "However they knew where to find you…._Jesus_, Andy. You could've been killed."

Andy yanks her top down. "You promised not to freak out."

She also pulls her other hand from his, making a grab then for his face.

She takes his cheeks between her palms and directs his face so it's square with hers, their eyes locking when she's got him where she wants. "Look at me, Sam. I'm fine. I'm good…and I'll heal quickly. _We're _good. We're…"

"We are.." She pleads...

Her words are cut off when Sam steps back into the space she made and dips his face so his mouth meets hers.

Andy's hands are still wrapped around his cheeks, making her own access to his mouth a reflex...

The kiss is –

_Soft_.

_Gentle_.

_Searing._

His mouth is tentative on hers as though he thinks _that_ might be bruised. But it is also-

_Hot_.

It's languid and delicate to start off with, but the way they both go searching –

It gets hotter and hotter stupidly fast.

Images of the night of the blackout come flashing back to her, how her body bucked and fit into his without any real effort –

Of how she _wanted_ him so much.

Like then, their mouths are open and wet and becoming more and more desperate –

But unlike then there's a freedom and complete inhibition to it.

It's as though something inside of Andy completely unfurls.

She licks and licks her way into him, pushing her point that she wants to be –

Andy wants to be a _part_ of him too.

* * *

Sam didn't set out thinking he was going to kiss her.

(Well, okay. Maybe if dinner had panned out like it should've, he would've plucked up the courage to give her a long kiss goodnight.) But this –

_This_ is way more than _that_.

Months and months of teased and tortured feelings that he's had for her, the cork on the bottle set loose because today he knows he could have _lost_ her forever.

He tries not to rush McNally with his desire for her here, he tries to keep the kiss slow and promising and…nice. But –

McNally is on fire, he can feel her heat through both their layers.

And she pushes, and licks, and nips at him -

And then starts moaning all the way into it like she wants more and more.

They're both breathing through it, their mouths synched up and separating just enough and briefly every twenty seconds or so to suck in some air.

It goes on for minutes and minutes that feel like hours, nothing else in their life except the lights and colors around…

And just the two of them.

Andy's fingers have been grappling at Sam's face the whole time, tiny scritches emanating from her fingers when she wants him to deepen the kiss.

Sam keeps his hands on the outside of her arms, knowing if they go anywhere else they might hurt her.

They also serve to hold her in one place.

(This could be a problem this: the way they both seek action so much).

Every now and then Andy tilts her hips into his, this suggestive gesture that is making Sam _hard (Harder..._

_almost so fucking hard it hurts)._

He pulls back from the kiss when it gets too much, worried things are about to spin out of control.

* * *

"I want…I want you…I want…Sam…I, um. Yeah. I want you in my life…more. I mean…more." Andy's words are scattered and scrambled like nonsense.

She blinks her eyes a few times in quick succession to kick-start her brain.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about today…I want there to be an _us_." She thinks those words made more sense, but looks into Sam's eyes to check.

She gasps for some air when she notices the way he's eyes are pitch black, his pupils well beyond blown. There's a whole stack of things going on for him, she figures. (She felt his body respond to the tick of her hips and the way they begged him to come closer).

He looks at her in a daze for a while before he lets out a small, dry laugh and then grins at her. "You _want_ there to be an _us_?" He checks in with her like maybe she's gone crazy. "I mean…you actually…"

Andy huffs and blows at her fringe.

"God. Like, Sam. I've got a _thing _for you, okay."

He really is so difficult to get through to some times.

"Have _had_ a thing for you for too long to admit. There, I said it, okay?"

Andy admits to being a little flustered with telling him this stuff, but she wants to.

She wants to move things along.

She just hopes he does too –

Really.

Really.

Really hopes.

Sam smiles back at her; open-mouthed and as bright-eyed as she's ever seen him, his dimples guest starring and this adorable, almost shy look on his face.

* * *

Sam works double-time to work against the emotions running all the way through him; shock, surprise… and pure fucking delight.

The words out of her mouth are simply the greatest revelation that Sam's ever heard.

When he finally does get his brain online, he pauses and wants to say lots of stuff back.

Instead of that though –

He is _speechless_.

Where does he even start -

Sam figures he's just going to have to _show_ her he feels the same way. So -

He runs his hands up and over McNally's shoulders, finally lacing them into the weight of all those silky, soft locks.

He pulls her carefully toward him again, placing his lips on hers and giving her a soft, delicate kiss there –

Before he licks his way back in.

McNally sighs this time; this pretty, pretty sound that sends a vibration all the way through Sam and makes his body hum.

He pulls back once more, knowing he needs to give her _something_ aside the actions.

Especially since she's laid it all on the line.

As per usual, the words don't come easy to Sam, but he does do his best in not disguising them with one of his trademark smirks:

"I think….it's fair to say…I've got a _thing_ for you too McNally," he manages to tell her between a few lighter kisses he plants across her cheeks.

He holds her head in close to his at the end of them too, and bumps his nose to hers gently, feeling beside himself with some kind of joy.

* * *

Andy's smile grows at his gestures and words.

She knows Sam's not exactly comfortable when it comes to being forthcoming with his emotions…

But everything about him is so sincere and genuine right now.

Her brain and body are buzzing, every part of her being wanting to jump right in and make some plans with him; decide what happens when they know they're safe and clear.

She knows it's probably going to be tricky being partner-partners, but it's also exciting and –

"So. What do we do now?" Andy asks suddenly, Sam's warm hands still massaging up the back of her neck and skull.

Sam's mouth drops open slightly, his eyes staring straight into hers before they bounce to other parts of the room.

Finally, he runs one of his hands down her front, the fingertips skimming over where she was hurt the most.

It's a small, maybe frustrated smile that he gives her:

"I don't know. I have no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N I have no idea what's come over me this afternoon, but I've decided to set this story free. (So much for the posting chapters once per day: never believe anything I ever say...ever again ;)_

_This is chapter six, the one with the big fat warning: SEX SCENE AHEAD. If it isn't something you're comfortable with reading, I'd recommend you skip to seven. I will say though, I think I've managed to avoid the intimacy here from becoming smutty and pornish, so feel free to give it a try! _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Andy peers up at him from under eyelashes, nervous.

Of course, normally she'd chat to him about their potential options, but she figures what with this situation being far from normal, maybe its best they don't do so much talking tonight.

Instead, Andy decides to be bold.

Standing before Sam in the kitchen of all places, she carefully rolls her top up to the point she can get it off with some ease.

When the garment and static of her hair are free of her face, she sees Sam staring at her…a look of warning on his face.

"McNally, you're…"

"We don't have to do anything," Andy interjects quickly.

(Although, boy does she want to do something. Anything really).

"I mean…we could just try get some sleep?"

Sam quirks an eyebrow and doesn't smile.

The way his eyes are scanning her form again, has Andy feeling like he's even more stressed about her injuries now.

He does well to disguise it with some humor though; "You normally get ready for bed while you're standing in the kitchen?"

Andy blushes all over. Sam can be such a jerk. Still, she can't help but giggle at the situation and so she knocks her head forward into his shoulder and hides her face there.

She feels Sam's shoulders shake with a silent laugh, clearly trying to stop himself from making her feel even more embarrassed than she already is. Seriously, Andy needs a lobotomy maybe.

Who whips their sweater off in the middle of a kitchen, the minute the guy they like says that he has a 'thing' for them too?

For all Andy knows, Sam doesn't want to jump headlong into a serious relationship –

* * *

Sam's hand sifts through McNally's locks as he tilts his face forward to plant another kiss, this one on top of her head. He's going to have to be real careful not to hurt her, but. Yeah. Like Andy, Sam wants to move things along.

He bends his knees and places the hand that was on her front under her thighs. He lifts her easily. Despite all that muscle McNally's got, she's a lightweight.

She gives him a grin for his troubles, and settles herself into his arms; looping her own around his neck. Sam assesses the fact that her blush hasn't left her face; shyness at the way he's lifted her and is now carrying her bridal style to the bed.

He puts her down cautiously, supporting one lanky limb at a time. The expression she's wearing is killing him, not having taken her eyes off him since he commenced her descent. Sam guesses she might be trying to gauge _exactly_ what's going to happen here, how _things_ are going to go down.

He strokes a hand through her hair, keeping one of his knees on the bed and the other arm leaned all the way over her to prop himself up. He kisses her a few more times, just light, peppery things all over her mouth. When he's not doing that he murmurs; "S'okay, Andy. Everything or nothing. Whatever you want. We stop when it hurts."

Eventually Andy's head thuds back against the pillow and her whole body relaxes, sinking into the bed. She nods, that determined assured series of head movements she gets going on when she understands any other order that Sam gives. "Okay… yeah. Just," Andy whispers breathlessly. "Want _you_."

And if Sam wasn't all the way hard already, well.

He is now.

He whispers back at McNally: "want you too," then lets her swallow his words in a hot, messy kiss.

He feels her cool, fidgety fingers on the hem of his shirt, lets her yank it out of his jeans before he helps get it the rest of the way off. He tosses the shirt to one side as he gets himself up onto the bed properly, kneeling to the side of Andy before she lifts one leg up and hooks it around his waist to get him in between her legs.

The movement takes Sam's breath right away.

He gets his arms back on either side of her head to lean as far down and close as he can without having to press on her midriff. The cotton cups of her bra graze his chest as he does it, sending a shock down Sam's spine.

He puts a thumb on her cheekbone on reflex, swiping a loop around her cheek gently. And then Sam gets his mouth on her ear. "I've wanted you for a _while_," is what he whispers at her, the sound coming out like a series of breaths.

He feels McNally smile against his cheek, closes his eyes as she gets slides her hands around his back and skims them up and down.

* * *

Andy wants to buck into Sam pretty badly, the way his mouth's on her ear. The problem is she doesn't exactly know what might aggravate the aches under her bruises…and she certainly doesn't want to make Sam think he's the one causing the pain.

She kisses him on the cheek while he's not looking. "Yeah?" Andy huffs out to regain some breath. "Well, I know this whole surveillance thing hasn't gone so great…but I'm _so_ glad you didn't do that other UC…"

"Didn't wanna leave you," Sam says simply, his hands sliding under Andy's back to undo her bra. He takes it off her cautiously, a strap at a time, peeling the cups off before he puts it aside to some space in the bed. "Can't imagine my life without you in it."

His echo from all those weeks ago, doesn't hold a trace of sarcasm tonight. He just stares down at her face in all seriousness and then trawls his eyes down.

Andy runs a hand up into Sam's hair, in an effort to pull him back down and get his mouth on hers. It works, his nose coming first to nudge at hers, just before he plants a hot kiss in her mouth.

* * *

As Sam leans back down McNally's way, the soft curve of her breasts goes flush against Sam's chest. It's a move that spins his head faster, and makes him want to thrust his hips all the way down.

To take his mind off it, he moves his mouth down to McNally's neck. Which, okay. Maybe that doesn't help matters – especially with the moan she just released.

Sam is on a mission though. He's waited for this for a long time, be damned that he's going to bolt out of the barriers way too soon.

He continues on his journey down her tan body, miles and miles of soft skin that Sam wants to explore every part of.

He pays some attention to her breasts, one hand on one, the other in his mouth. He uses some teeth real gentle to test what she likes and that's when her hips fly all the way up, bumping at Sam's and spreading some high voltage heat.

* * *

Andy groans with the pleasure of Sam's mouth and hands on her breast. His touch is –

Well. Sam's touch is something else.

Those rough, calloused fingers are so, so heartbreakingly gentle and tender.

Andy just wants every part of him, everywhere, all the time, now.

"Sam…" she sighs, all breathy whisper and a definite plead.

But it appears that Sam's not going anywhere fast soon, his pace excruciatingly slow.

She knows he's being careful, she is too. It's just –

Andy is _wanting_ in a whole heap of spots.

The sudden movement did shoot a sharp pain somewhere around her ribs, but it was nothing compared to the _bliss_ that Sam's dishing out now.

His mouth continues a trail down over her sternum, down towards her abdomen. It's there that he pays the most attention; tiny, delicate kisses and feather-light fingers as he tries to cure every one of her bruises on the spot.

The sensation is surreal; Andy can literally feel the blood pound through her body, waves peaking where the bruises are. If he were to lie on her, or if anything was to press her too hard, it would definitely hurt.

But Sam is being so tender and cautious and attentive, that she can't imagine ever being in any pain…for any reason…around him.

* * *

McNally's fingers continue to sift through Sam's hair and onto the nape of his neck every now and then. Once in a while she sighs and tips her hips up at him, something hitting some place that isn't in pain.

"Okay?" Sam asks her quietly, his mouth settled north of a bruise that's over near her waistline.

"Yep…s'good, Sam. God. _Love_ what you're doing to me."

Sam blinks at the words and into her skin. "Love that you love it," he says carefully – not remembering any single time in history when he's used the L word so much.

When he's done trying to rid the bruises that mark her, Sam moves his mouth down further, his chin bumping at the band of her jeans.

He hears a small gasp out of Andy. If he were to take a guess, he'd say she wants him to keep going, but she's also starting to freak the hell out.

Sam tests his theory by popping the button and pulling her zip down very, very slowly.

Sure enough, Andy's hands clench on him; one in his hair, the other on one shoulder, short but not _that_ short fingernails digging into his skin.

Sam kisses at a point on her belly as he dips his thumb under the waist of her jeans and tugs at them gently, rolling them over her sharp hips and then working them all the way down.

* * *

Andy's breathing is already ragged, watching Sam work over her like that. By the time she looks up, he's on his haunches, and her boots and jeans are now well and truly all the way off.

Andy lifts her legs so she can nudge his chest with her feet. It's kind of an automatic reflex, self-defense to keep him at bay…while she prepares herself for whatever might come next.

(For goodness sake: it's like she's just going to come at the sight and thought of him fucking. Andy doesn't even know anymore how to relax, the anticipation and daydreams of two years now coming to a heady climax.)

Sam plucks at a foot delicately and kisses it under the arch. "Beautiful girl," he tells it quietly and then he stares straight back at her face.

The flush in Andy's cheeks creeps all the way down her body, her torso arching just that little bit before the pain of the movement reminds her that she has to keep as still as she can. And –

Relax.

Relax!

(A part of Andy's problem here is that she wants to be good for Sam. Strike that. She wants to be amazing and incredible and –

* * *

"Relax, McNally. Remember. Not at full strength," Sam tries to assure that ticking time-bomb that is Andy's brain. He doesn't want her trying any heroics just to impress him. (He imagines under normal circumstances that she would go hard with the gymnastics if she thought it might get things to where she wanted them to be).

"Just…just let me make you feel good, okay?" His voice has gone raspy and thin, Sam figures it could be because the blood in his body is pumping in the one direction – something he's really going to have to sort out.

Sam tries on a small smile at McNally – and then inches his mouth down to her calf.

She giggles a little, evidently ticklish there. That –

Is useful information for Sam to retain for future match-ups.

Still, he notices the way her hands go to her tummy and try to contain the laughs.

He realizes then that it's going to be hell not being able to give McNally _all_ she deserves.

* * *

Sam's mouth is warm and delicious…and Andy is really, really super-pleased she shaved her legs this morning before she went for that ill-fated run.

It's a problem maybe that she's so ticklish and sensitive in so many parts, but she doesn't mind a little ouch from her abdomen if it means Sam testing out every part.

He moves down one calf muscle slowly, his mouth nibbling and sucking along the way. Every so often he pauses like he's at a stop sign – or at least a give way.

When he gets to her thigh, he starts to use some more tongue, a bit of extra pressure as Andy gets used to the sensation…and the realization of where he's headed next.

* * *

Finally, finally Sam kisses at the crease of McNally's toned thigh. He's been taking in the heady mix of her scent for a good stretch of time, and about now is when he thinks it might drive him insane.

She's relaxed into it, definitely; her long leg hooking right over his shoulder, the back of her knee sweating some friction between them.

Before he goes anywhere else, he puts his fingers and palm back up to her stomach and smooths over it lightly. Sam looks up at her as he does it and is rewarded with the prettiest smile that he's ever seen.

McNally laces some fingers through the hand he's got near her bruises. It's plain as day that she trusts him implicitly now. Andy's hips butterfly all the way open and her other leg comes up to hook over his other shoulder.

It shouldn't surprise Sam that she's so courageous with her words, but it does. The fact they're about him makes Sam's head swim, or damn near drown.

"Want you," she murmurs to him as he looks up at her; those big brown eyes of her all honest and completely on board with whatever comes next.

It's at that point that Sam decides he has to taste her, has to breathe her all the way in.

He uses his free hand to open her up the rest of the way.

Just gentle.

He feels his cock throb in the tangle of his boxers and jeans, the ache of it almost unbearable as he looks into her. She's pink and swollen and wet and…

Beautiful.

* * *

As soon as Sam puts his mouth near her, Andy loses her breath.

She watches on because she just _has_ to; watches that dark head of his move as she feels the flat of his tongue work from all the way under – to all the way up.

The long, breathy '_ahh, ohh_' that comes out of her has it's own personality. Andy hears it echo and bounce around the room looking for its' fix.

(She has imagined him going down on her – several times. The reality is so –

So much hotter, better, more –

Incredible than that).

Andy keeps one hand in his hair as the other continues to hold the hand of his that's flat on her belly. She feels the bruised muscles of her stomach fight one another, each one wanting the pleasure all for themselves. She tries to remain relaxed and stop herself from the tension that's searching Sam out.

"You're beautiful," he mutters before his tongue sinks all the way inside of her, _searching_ and licking her out. As he does it, the hand he has free of Andy's skips over her hip and then inside her thigh. Eventually it works its way just past where his mouth is and he cups her, pushing the heel of his palm up to rest on her clit.

He rubs it over there gently; this steady grinding that rocks her in time with his tongue.

Andy grips her fingers tight into the ones he has monitoring her tummy. She presses both their hands down hard to tease at the pain, and then lets herself go. "Oh…my…God…Sam…gonna…gonna…gonna…"

Everything after that for Andy is just screaming flashes of white and her need for air -

The first time she comes for Sam is a heady and all over body mix of pleasure and pain; both feelings are intense and _sharp_, agony and ecstasy nothing like anything Andy's ever experienced before.

A whole series of ripples and shockwaves travel through her making her whimper and sigh. But amidst it all is this beauty that she can't even describe, it's like she's on the threshold of some kind of world she never knew existed. Ever before.

* * *

Sam's worried it may be hurting Andy, the way she's come that hard on his mouth. He can't ever recall coming himself while he's been battered and bruised. Still –

She rides her way through it, undoubtedly not as greedy as she normally would, but her hips are definitely, definitely working their way through it to take as much as she can.

His own body is yearning like nobody's business, the sight and smell and feel of all her pretty prettiness egging him on like this.

"Please, please, please…" is the next thing he hears, this desperate, frilly voice out of McNally that turns Sam on even more. He's curious on that, and would be happy to stay down here all day –

"Sam…please…wanna…"

He looks up to check, giving her a loose kiss with his hot, sticky mouth right on her hairline as he does so. "Okay, McNally?" Sam asks her in a ragged sort of stutter.

"Yes, yes, yes, God, yes," McNally rambles back at him with a completely fetching look on her face. "C'mere…c'mere…now."

"Off…off…off," she continues with as Sam makes his way up her body, her chanting possibly because she thinks Sam doesn't hear her first time around. She's tugged hard on his hand to get herself in a position where she can duck her fingers into the fly of his jeans.

"Andy…" Sam warns, speculating that McNally wants his cock inside of her. He'd be amused under normal circumstances; the way she thinks she can take on a whole lot more than she should –

"I'm alright, Sam. God. I'm great." She's flustered and needy for sure. The bite she has into her bottom lip is leaving teeth marks and her eyes are wild, if Sam doesn't watch himself here he could become prey. She blows out a breath, an attempt to get her fringe from her face. It doesn't move anywhere though, the sweat off her soaking it and sticking it flat on her forehead.

"Okay…okay, sweetheart…" (which – oops, that endearment was way too casual in the way it fell out of Sam's mouth). He swipes his thumb at her fringe and brushes it out of her eyes for her, then is careful to lean his body right in a way that won't hurt. "But. Slow again. Okay?" He follows the sentiment up with a steady bump of his nose to hers and then kisses into her mouth –

_Slow._

* * *

Andy knows slow will be good.

She really, really does.

It's just that her body is still throbbing and humming and clearly –

Sam knows how to make the best of it when she's not in peak form.

They both grapple with his jeans, Andy's hands probably getting in the way of things with their impatience and persistence. In the end, she hooks her legs all the way around to get her toes in his back pockets and drag the things off. It's probably a workout a physio would advise against, but Andy is desperate –

Now that she knows Sam has a thing for her too, she wants to –

She wants a lot of stuff.

A _lot_.

_Now_.

Andy feels Sam grin into her neck as he tries to kiss a hot spot right there. He'd probably be cocky right in her face if it weren't for the fact that he was so, so…so.

_Hard._

Sam is…he is…big alright. But then again, Andy already knew that. Not just by the way he held himself or swaggered either –

Nope. No. Pat-downs in alleyways and blackouts and generally staring at him in different situations, is how Andy knows.

She sighs unabashedly as she finally gets a hand wrapped around him, smiles herself silly when she hears his guttural groan. She considers for a hot second about pulling him straight in. But -

He's right though; this could turn out to be a more painful than Andy predicts. Her coming all over his mouth was one thing, but the fact that _he'll_ be inside of her…

Gets Andy clenching again.

"I've thought of you -" Andy goes to tell Sam about the ways she's wanted him for days (weeks, months…more).

But is cut off by the way he nips at her lip and then cautiously places the blunt edge of his cock against the right spot.

And, _seriously_.

Andy gasps, her body automatically pulling to get him further inside. And -

Sam has got some great upper body strength; this whole thing has practically been a push-up for him, the way he's hovering above her constantly and not giving her any of his weight. The problem with all of that is that he's also reluctant to _push_, making it an insane tease that has Andy aching in places other than where he bruises are.

To try rectify the situation, Andy snakes her arms around those broad shoulders of his, and gets her hands feeling out his muscles before they hook into one another, a loop around his neck.

"You're gonna tell me to stop if it hurts, got it?" Sam hisses, edging into her by a bare centimeter. He's got himself propped on one arm now, just his bottom half without any space between them, except for the hands they have on one another. He taps at one bruise light, just a tickle – but enough for her to know.

Andy nods fiercely, the clutch of her lower half going into overdrive because of it's _wanting_ for Sam.

"Thought about you too…" Sam's words scorch Andy's cheek as he slides further in.

Andy's mouth connects with Sam's chin as he inches his body inside hers, she sucks at the cleft hard and fast as she feels her whole body do a taut stretch to accommodate him. "_Saaam…._" She breathes out in a sob suddenly, her head and body filled with this hot, electric sensation -

"Think about you…" he continues, right on cue as he finally, finally, finally bottoms all the way out.

* * *

Sam grits his teeth, every particle in his body already on fire and set to explode. Finally being inside McNally is finally…

_Being_; a greater accomplishment than any Everest or otherwise could ever be.

Sam knows he's making some noise here, but he can't help it. He _wants _her to know how good she feels; how being inside her tight, wet body is doing things to his head and heart…as well as his cock.

"You're amazing," he manages to croak out in a breath as he thrusts a little, just testing.

The gasp that comes out of Andy then doesn't sound entirely like its agony. Not at all really, it's actually this endearing noise that makes Sam want to hear it some more.

He slides the hand that's on McNally's stomach around her waist and puts it at her lower back to support some more movement. He figures a slightly different position might help her out even more is the thing. "We're gonna roll a little, sweetheart...okay?"

Sam does roll them, just to their side and so they stay face-to-face. It's an effective move for several reasons; one, he can get his hands all over her without bearing weight; two, she can take some control; and three, it's…it's…

Well. Having her pretty face staring into his at this angle as he fucks her gently is the stuff that dreams are made of. That's what it is.

He rocks inside her hips, building up a slow, steady rhythm again that gets her making some more pretty noise. "It's…you're…_something_, McNally," Sam tells her shakily, as she pulls him all the way in with her clenching and keeps the length of him _still_ with a grip as a spot hits right. "Tell me…"

"All feels…" she grunts out as she dives in to get another sloppy kiss on the side of his mouth. "It' a lot…" she winces as she grabs at his jaw with both hands. "It's…it's…_heavenly,_ Sam."

He tamps down a grin as he thrusts the tiniest fraction harder, not wanting to make her self-conscious of her use of ethereal words. Sam just thinks she's completely fucking charming and awesome, is all.

"Heavenly, huh?" he repeats the word because he likes the sound of it, makes sure he doesn't tarnish it with the sarcasm he normally hides behind. "Guess that's more succinct than telling me it's out of this world." (And, okay. Maybe a little teasing won't hurt).

Andy giggles brightly. "Shut up," she demands, swamping him with another one of her damp, greedy kisses.

Sam pets up and down her side, being careful to avoid any touch that might promote pain. He feels out the curves he'd committed to memory the night of the blackout; the same ones he's wanted to roll his hands over and over every day and night since.

"Beautiful girl," Sam whispers as he goes in for another kiss and a deep thrust. He can't stop saying _stuff _to her; whatever simple words that are rattling around in his brain just want to come out with every piece of his physical being it seems.

McNally tucks her face in his neck and kisses him there; shy about some compliments despite how damn bossy and bold she can be. "Saaamm," he feels his name vibrating into the top of his spine. "Come…come with me. Now."

And that is the point that Sam is well and truly done, something inside him splintering as those tiny, shaky words of hers sends red heat through his body. "Andy…" he grits his teeth again and gets one hand in her hair, keeping the other on her vulnerable side.

* * *

Andy just can't hold on anymore, she wants to let go again…and she desperately, desperately wants to feel Sam lose himself –

Inside.

Inside of her.

She stays in the safe spot of his neck, tears in her eyes at the gentle slow push, pull that has become…them.

It's only when he puts his hand at the back of her skull and tugs gently that she looks back up at him. His soft, warm, dark eyes gone impossibly…

Softer. Warmer. Darker.

"I…." her voice waivers on the threshold, the effects of everything happening inside of her about to come out.

The final long, slow thrusts inside her reach something deep and almost unbearable; Sam pressing at something that makes her _want_ to show him how much –

Andy loses her thoughts all over Sam and inside the room, her moans and sighs sharp and loud against the silence that's everywhere else. Her body bucks against his, relentless; her search finally over, she's got what she wants.

Sam's voice swims inside her head as she rides her way through it; an endless litany of telling her just how pretty and perfect she is. She wants to tell him stuff too; how he intrigues her and challenges her, how he makes her feel safe and the best she can be –

* * *

Sam doesn't last when McNally begins, the full force of the build-up in his spine unfurling in a way that it's never done before.

He breathes and breathes and breathes because if he doesn't: he fears he's never going to make it to the other end.

McNally's body is giving everything its got, undoubtedly breaking through pain barriers just because she wants to give that to Sam.

It's messy at the end, the two of them clutching to one another desperately, peppering kisses wherever they can get to and making a whole lot of noise that makes no sense to anyone…except for themselves.

When Sam finally comes to properly, he has the good sense to check in on McNally: "Andy…sweetheart…you okay?"

She laughs brightly at the ceiling as she untangles her long limbs from his and rolls herself onto her back. "God. Sam. _Yes_."

She turns her head on the pillow beneath her, that pretty face wide open and beaming as she works hard to gather some breath. "Way more than okay. _Way more_."

He dips a hand back around to touch at her stomach, knowing how sensitive –

"Saaaam," McNally whines at him with a glare. "Okay, look. I may feel like my body's run a marathon…but…I… God. Sam. Believe me, if it was a mistake to put my body on the line here…Yeah…. Best mistake of my life."

She's rambling with her modes of trying to appease Sam's concerns, but all in all, it's working. The way she looks so happy, sounds so –

_Elated._

Yeah, well. Sam can empathize with that. He's in the same world right now.

"Okay…" He responds with another gentle pat down of her tummy and sides. He puts a protective arm around her chest eventually and kisses her cheek. The depth of emotion Sam has when thinking about this woman, the feelings he has when they're together in any way –

Well. He has no idea what to do with them mostly. But in this moment everything, despite the danger outside, is all very –

_Right._

* * *

"You think the universe has a plan for us?" Andy blurts at the dark room eventually, relishing in the way Sam's fingers are tracing feathery patterns across her arms and shoulders.

She turns her face a little further to watch his, notices the way he blinks with some confusion and the furrow of his forehead.

She assumes maybe that Sam is not only _not _a planner, but he is doubtful of 'fate.'

His voice is soft and lovely when he responds after some silence, no trace of any teasing and scoffing at her random thoughts.

She inspects the twitch of his mouth before he turns to face her properly and says the words that make her theory of the universe and such things light all the way up:

"If it does, I hope it's one we both like a whole lot."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: And so this one comes to its end! Thanks again for the reads and reviews, it's been fun from this end._

_HUGE thanks again to RB_Anon who came up with the concept in the first place. You're just effing wonderful generally speaking, so kudos to you._

_I hope the ending doesn't disappoint. I know it leaves the criminality and what not unresolved. But that's not what this little ficlet was about anyway, and I'm settled with how it pans out._

_Adios from me for now, no doubt I'll pop up again elsewhere soon!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Early morning in the hotel room is a soft, warm glow against another bleak day outside.

Andy has been awake for only a few minutes, but long enough to feel the stiff aches of her body giving her a lecture for the way she tends to push it too hard. Still -

Totally worth it.

Andy feels warm and happy and hopeful.

The man that makes her head and heart do all manner of gymnastics lay asleep under her arm.

For once, they're on the same page about them...or at least, she's pretty sure that was the conclusion in the early hours of this morning.

(Sam making love to her the second time around and a series of other confessions that included a little more detail about _what _they liked so much about one another;

Him to her: her heart, her courage, her determination, her generosity to name but a few…

Her to him: his heart, his wisdom, his strength, his sense of loyalty…)

She smiles at his handsome face, yearning to kiss it. Come to think of it, she's pretty sure she'd kiss it all day long if given half the chance. Just as well she loves being police too.

She traces her fingers down his chest, light and teasing.

As he stirs in his sleep, she smiles brightly again.

Sure they might still be knocking on the door of danger, but she does trust that the arrests will be made today...

She thinks again of what tomorrow and the day after might bring, leaving her head in a tizz about all this stuff she can just...do...to…and with Sam now...

Now that they're a 'thing'.

(They settled on that term because it meant more to them than just boyfriend/girlfriend ...

They deliberated over the use of a term like partner-partners, but figured they might need to get themselves on track out in the real world first -

Go on a few proper dates and hang out and tackle a non-life threatening challenge before they tell the world they are in this 'thing' for keeps.

Even though Andy just knows she _is_ anyway.)

One eye of Sam's blinks open and stares at her.

The arm he has under her neck twists a little, promoting his hand to a position further across the front of her shoulder.

The movement serves to roll Andy's body even closer into Sam, squishing her breasts onto half of his chest.

"Does that brain of yours never sleep, McNally?"

Andy's whole body tingles; the early morning voice of Sam is rough and soft in equal amounts. It's low and quiet too. It makes her feel special, a breakfast smoothie that he's made just for her and no one else in the world.

* * *

McNally's response to Sam's teasing is to beam that mega-watt smile of hers –

Straight _at_ him.

_For_ him.

Their lives may still be in danger here, but seeing her like this makes Sam feel the most alive he's ever been.

He opens his other eye to investigate her properly; grins at the messy sexed-up bed head she's got going on, and considers himself one lucky man.

He lifts his hand to thread some fingers through her nest. "You get any sleep?"

"Enough," Andy replies a little too quickly, her voice a crackle and crunch that sounds a whole lot like that sugary cereal she no doubt likes to eat.

"Hungry?" Sam probes, putting his other hand on top of the arm she's got drifting around his stomach.

McNally grins back at Sam, a thousand shades of the sexiest and dirtiest thing that he ever did see. "Very," she retorts with some eyebrows that are cocked high and wicked, and doing something to Sam.

He rolls her the rest of the way on top of him, a motion she'd already started.

He swallows her fits of giggles in a kiss that makes his head spin, and lets her slide herself onto him with a final groan in his mouth.

* * *

It's only about a minute after Sam's lost himself inside McNally again that they hear the burn phone ring, some ridiculous rap song that Boyd's programmed.

"Ugh," Andy flops her whole weight all the way on top of Sam. "Tell him to come back next year."

Yeah -

Sam knows what she's getting at; now they're in this cocoon together, he's happy to stay here for life. Still -

They're going to have to front the real world eventually.

He tussles himself and McNally gently so they're in a position he can reach for the offensive noise.

"Boyd?" Sam croaks, his own sex voice making an inappropriate appearance. Sam curses himself for not getting up and having some water before taking this call.

He can practically hear the battle between Don's smirk and frown.

"Arrests have all been made, we're headed to interviews now," Boyd says eventually, an irritated tone around a slurp of what Sam assumes is coffee. "Safe to come out."

Sam rolls his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek. "I take it our limo's downstairs?"

He runs a hand down McNally's back to steady her out as she fidgets on top of him, one sharp knee going a little too close for comfort as it dips between his legs.

"'Bout an hour." Boyd's crunching on some toast or something now, right in Sam's ear.

(The detective has developed a penchant for fucking Vegemite for god's sake. Keeps a jar of the crap on his desk half the time.

Sam doesn't even know what that's about really. The guy does all sorts of weird shit since he took a trip to Australia last year.)

"So...y'know. Here's your advance warning. Have a shower, or do whatever it is you kids do before mum and dad get back home."

Sam figures Boyd's sudden turn into a chirpier mood this morning can be attributed to a couple of things. No doubt he's figured how to make the arrests count, for starters. But also -

Sure as Sam remembers the time Don got to watch a threesome, he's picturing McNally and Sam together in bed right now.

"Go do your interviews, Don," Sam shudders, pressing Andy in closer to his chest and pulling a sheet up around her shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," Boyd spits back, his mouth still full of toast. "I'll, ah. Catch you guys later in the 'noon, okay?"

Sam rolls his eyes and wonders what poor unsuspecting 18 year old Don's 'dating' at the moment. "Yep," Sam answers bluntly, definitely not looking forward to any formal interviews.

* * *

Sam hangs up in a snap and tosses the phone to the side table.

Andy finally gets her head out of his neck and peers up from under her eyelashes. "We good to go?"

Sam takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. When he pulls away, he swipes some hair behind her ear. "Yeah, sweetheart. A driver'll pick us up in an hour and take us to Guns and Gangs. Then we'll go to 15… or home."

* * *

Andy smiles small, a tinge and pang near her heart on the way Sam says 'home'.

She bites her lip, worrying about whether they'll be separated as partners on the job, and what_ that _might mean. Andy loves working in close quarters with Sam.

Andy loves a lot about him, actually –

"We're gonna have to tell the boss…'bout us…right?" she knows the answer to this, but she wants to hear what Sam has to say anyway.

She watches Sam's throat work before he replies - his tongue scraping at his teeth and then inside his cheek as he thinks through his response. He looks her in the eye eventually, and rubs at her shoulder a bit.

"Andy," Sam's voice is teetering on being a question. "The boss needs to be told."

Andy nods quietly, and takes a deep breath as she thinks about not being right by Sam's side when they need one another the most. She rubs at Sam's chest, near his heart and then leans her head forward to get a kiss at the spot.

He lifts her face after she's been down there a few moments.

The look on him is driving Andy insane; an excruciating openness to his face that she's never seen before. She bites her lip hard, just after he does. What he says next, swells her heart with a burst that is –

Happiness personified.

"Andy, I don't want to hide _us_ from anyone anymore."

On the 'anymore' tears well in her eyes, prompting her to quickly swipe a thumb across the general vicinity.

Sam makes a grab for her hand immediately and holds it.

He tilts his face toward hers and kisses her soft on the lips. "I want _all_ of _you_."

Andy makes a move on reflex, ignoring the sharp pain around her midriff to get at as much of Sam as she can.

She kisses him fiercely, hard and determined and right on the lips. "I want all of you too," she says with her mouth over his. "Every. Single. Piece."

* * *

A shower and an hour later, Andy and Sam are on their way Guns and Gangs and Donovan Boyd.

They sit in the back seat of an unmarked car, the driver glancing at them once in a while through the rearview mirror and giving them a reassuring smile.

Sam holds McNally's hand in his, the two of their bodies practically conjoined on the back seat.

Every now and then he squeezes at her palm.

Or she squeezes at his.

Sam knows whatever happens next will be challenging, yet fascinating and awesome. He knows it's going to take a truckload of courage from the both of them.

It's also going to take patience -

Patience, honesty, integrity, give and take, and a whole host of other things that he's not entirely sure about yet.

Whatever it takes though, he'll do it.

He'll do it for her, and for himself.

He'll also let her do it.

Because he trusts her.

Because he knows that he loves her.

Even if he hasn't…can't…pluck up the courage to say those particular words yet.

Yes.

Sam is ready.

He is ready for Andy McNally.

And whatever wild ride they have in store.

* * *

As they get out of the car and look up to their next call for the new day, he puts an arm around her and takes her into an embrace.

He whispers into McNally's ear only something she will hear:

"Are you ready for whatever's in store for us?"

Sam's smile is authentic and big when Andy whispers back to him:

"As long as you're there."

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
